


That Which Will Survive

by redaurorarora



Series: A Mighty Fire [3]
Category: X-Men (Comicverse), X-Men (Movies), X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Bromance, Canonical Character Death, Comic-movie fusion, Could be romance if you squint, Friendship, Gen, Kinda canon, Kinda not, Possession (kind of), Warning: Onslaught
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-14
Updated: 2012-11-03
Packaged: 2017-11-09 23:30:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 39,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/459716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redaurorarora/pseuds/redaurorarora
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Magneto is down for the count, Charles is acting oddly, and Onslaught has a plan. Add in Stryker and increased tensions between the Brotherhood and X-Men and everyone has their hands pretty full.</p><p>For those who are unaware, Onslaught (as described by Marvel's wiki), is "Magneto’s negative emotions merged with Xavier’s suppressed urges, forming a powerful, dormant psionic entity - the self-dubbed Onslaught." He's a psychic entity trapped within Charles' mind...until he becomes a lot less trapped.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. But what is this that I can't see

**Author's Note:**

> Loosely adapting the events of X2…except in the late 1960s with First Class characters. It doesn't jump around nearly as much as "Two Roads..." did. Mostly because "Two Roads..." sole purpose was to lead to this story. If, by chance, you haven't read the earlier stories from the series, I'd suggest looking at the last 3-4 chapters of "Two Roads..." at the very least. There's a summary paragraph of "A Spark Neglected in the end notes of that too. 
> 
> I'll be listing comic and movie references at the end of every chapter. There will be spoilers from the Onslaught comic storyline and from X2. My X2 knowledge comes from watching the movie a while back and my comic knowledge comes from Marvel's wiki page and the 4 Onslaught comics I own. Forgive any mistakes.
> 
> Note the tag for deaths. They happen. 
> 
> Chapter title comes from Jen Titus' "Oh Death"

Dr. Andrew Jones spared a passing glance at the glow of the neon sign as he shuffled into the alleyway. Arcadia Fine Arts, it read. He had no idea why his contact wanted to talk here, but he certainly wasn't going to complain. Despite the fact that he'd been meeting the man for months, he could never quite calm his nerves around him. Maybe it was the clandestine rendezvous or that he'd never been allowed to see the man's face. He reached the appointed corner, shadowed in darkness deep in the alley, though the darkness was hardly surprising at this hour of the night. A glance at his watch told him he had four minutes to spare. He shifted from foot to foot and drew his coat tighter, steeling himself against the blustery night.

The clang of a falling trashcan startled him. He jumped as a cat skittered past then disappeared around the building. In the silence that followed, he forced himself to take a calming breath. This was important, he reminded himself. People needed to know what was happening behind closed doors. He had long ago lost his trust in William Stryker, who had ascended to be far more powerful than his father, the elder William Stryker, ever had. His contact had approached him at just the right time and assured him any information he gave about Stryker's work would be considered anonymous and put to good use. The man's identity had to be kept secret for both their safeties, but Andrew liked to speculate the man was a member of one of those watchdog groups or maybe even an intrepid journalist.

It had gotten easier over time, the knowledge that he was reporting government secrets to, for all intents and purposes, a stranger. All he had to do was remember why he had accepted the man's proposal in the first place. His predecessors, the two scientists who had headed this project six years ago, had disappeared without a trace. Henry McCoy had begun trickling back into the academic world through random journal articles, but the man himself hadn't made a physical appearance since before the Cuban Missile Crisis. Carl Maddicks hadn't been heard from at all since his disappearance four years later. He'd scoffed at his flower child of a sister when she'd claimed it was a government conspiracy, but after two years of working with Stryker, he had begun to have his doubts. And that led him here…to an alleyway behind Arcadia Fine Arts Center waiting for a man he'd never laid eyes on at 10:59 pm in the middle of August. He once again tucked his coat around him as his watch clicked to 11:00.

"It is rather chilly, isn't it Mr. Jones?"

Jones almost tipped over the trashcan next to him. The smell of rotten eggs permeated the air.

"No need to be frightened. It's only me after all," the man continued. As usual, Andrew couldn't see the man's face, but he was positive his contact was smiling and not in a kind way.

"You just startled me is all," Jones defended as he straightened his coat. "You don't make a sound when you approach. You should be a spy."

"Who's to say I'm not?"

Jones had no idea whether the man was kidding. He choked out an uncomfortable laugh.

"You have information for me?"

"Yeah," the scientist said before clearing his throat and shifting into what he thought of as his professional mode. "Yes. Colonel Stryker is well on his way to finishing his project. He's still not telling any of us what he intends to do with it, but he let slip where the parts are being sent as we finish them."

"And where would that be?"

"Some place in Canada called Alkali Lake."

"Excellent. That's very helpful, Andrew."

Jones frowned. He always felt like the man was talking down to him, even though he was the one with the information. It gave him an odd desire to tell the man more. To prove his worth. "There's something else."

"Oh? Well, speak then. We don't have all night."

"Stryker wants to meet with some geneticist. I think his name is Charles Xavier? He's apparently been on the news talking about mutants."

The pause that followed was dangerous.

"And why would he want to do that?" his contact inquired, sounding every bit as dangerous as the preceding pause.

"I- I don't know."

"And I suppose it would be odd for you to ask without looking too curious."

"Probably. He called him today. He was still grumbling about having to leave a message when he came for my progress report."

"Check."

"Wh-what?"

"Not you," the man said airily.

Andrew heard a strange sort of popping sound. "What was that?"

"Nothing to concern yourself with. You really have no idea why he's trying to contact Xavier?"

"No…I mean, well, he's run into some difficulties procuring some of the supplies. Maybe he thinks Xavier can help him?"

"No," his contact replied absently, "that wouldn't make sense. Stryker hasn't directly contacted Charles in nearly two years. Even then, it wasn't…amiable. If Stryker is contacting him now, he has something up his sleeve. You're sure of this?"

"Absolutely."

"What supplies is he having trouble procuring?"

"Some types of metals I think and a few other parts for the user interface. The blueprints and results are all based off one test subject and the scale was so much smaller then. That's why we've been having difficulty figuring out how exactly to work the interface. Stryker has had us contacting doctors and scientists who specialize in brain scanning technology. I'm not quite the expert the first scientist who worked on this project was."

"Yes, Hank has quite the brilliant mind."

Jones' spine shot straighter, his eyes honing in on the shadow that hid the voice. "How did you know about McCoy? I've never said anything about- never mind, do you know where he is? Is he okay? What about Maddicks?"

His contact chuckled.

"This is serious!" Andrew shouted in frustration.

"Yes, yes, of course," the man replied, though the chuckle didn't quite leave his voice. "Hank is fine. I can't say the same for Dr. Maddicks, but we each make our own choices and we must live with their consequences."

"What the hell does that mean?"

"If you don't already know, it's too late to educate you now. It's getting late and I'm required elsewhere. To sum up, Stryker's pet project is nearing completion with the exception of shortages in needed supplies and he left a message with Charles Xavier to set up a face-to-face meeting."

"Yes."

"Any other information he gives you would probably be minimal, then, if you've done your part of the project design and he's going after Xavier."

"Probably," Andrew admitted grudgingly.

They were interrupted by the popping sound again, followed by a heavy voice Andrew didn't recognize.

"It is as he says. A message was left at Westchester by Stryker."

"Who the hell is that?" Andrew asked in a panic. "How did he get here?"

"You've been most helpful, Mr. Jones," his contact said in answer. "Unfortunately, you have reached the end of your utility and I can't have any loose ends floating around. You have my sincerest thanks."

The scientist didn't even have time to wipe the slack-jawed surprise from his face before the world disappeared.

* * *

The door closed with a click and Mystique padded to the chair beside Magneto's bed. It had been over two months since the accident and still he showed no signs of truly awakening.

Not long after Charles had left, Magneto's eyes had opened. Mystique had shouted loud enough to bring half the Brotherhood into the room, but their leader had shown no further signs of consciousness. He ate, drank, and even walked around if someone led him, but all with a blank-faced absence that had the heart of the group (Mystique and Emma for the most part…the other original members, as it turned out, were far better at following orders than leading) scrambling to keep his weakness hidden away from the younger members. Better for them to see their leader recovering from an attack than an empty shell. Most of the time, he slept. Emma still felt nothing of his mind and Charles hadn't contacted them with any developments on how to remedy Magneto's mental absence. The telepath called on occasion to check the other man's condition, but even those calls were getting fewer and farther between.

Mystique had taken to reading the news to her fallen leader in hopes that maybe, somewhere in his mind, he could hear her. She sat herself in the chair beside his bed and tossed the still folded newspaper on the bed.

"So, it's Thursday. Things are progressing as well as they can be. I mean, Emma and I are still running things, just like last time I was here. We hit a facility yesterday. That's why I didn't come by. It was already empty though. We found a few files. Nothing too revealing, not that that's too shocking. I mean, if they were going to leave it behind, why leave something important, right? There are what look to be offhanded mentions of codenames the match up with some of our other information. We still can't figure out exactly what it all means. You should probably wake up so you can help us with it."

She paused to stare at Magneto's face. After five seconds and no reaction, she sighed.

"Yeah, I didn't think that would work. I mean, it hasn't worked for over two months. But, hey, it's worth a try, right? It's been a week and a half since Charles called last. He wanted to see if there was any change in your condition. He used to call a lot more, but I guess he's busy. If you would just twitch a finger or do something of your own volition, maybe he'd have reason to call more…. Then again, I can't imagine he's on the best of terms with any of us after what we tried to pull. Sometimes..." a pained look crossed the shapeshifter's face, "sometimes, and this might sound stupid, especially knowing Charles, but I can't shake the feeling that he knows something. That he figures all this mess is just karma and that he's laughing at us behind our backs." She shook her head. "But, no, this is Charles we're talking about. I could see Alex thinking that, maybe…in fact, he probably does think that, but that's beside the point. Anyway, I should get to the good stuff. Emma and I have to go through what we found yesterday at the facility in an hour and we have two days of news to catch up on."

She spread the paper out in front of her and started looking through the stories.

"Let's see…the Soviets invaded Czechoslovakia. I'm sure there are things you'd rather hear about than human on human violence though." She skimmed the page and turned to the next one. "There's a bit on the Mutant Registration Act, but nothing new. News on that front has petered out as of late, if you haven't noticed. That's mostly because Stryker hasn't been pushing it so much. He hasn't been making a lot of appearances lately. We're trying to keep an eye on him, but he goes off the grid sometimes. Don't worry. We're trying to fix that. Anyway, the MRA at least isn't something we need to be concerned about for the time being. Oh, Charles spoke at a conference a couple of days ago. It seemed to go well. The usual…silenced a few critics, made a few yell louder. We have a list of the yellers. We'll take care of them in time."

She turned another page.

"And, oh look, some government scientist got himself mugged and killed in an alleyway. Wow, Charles would love this…you know, if it wasn't one of his precious humans being killed. It was by Arcadia Fine Arts Center. That was one of those classics he made me learn when we were growing up. 'Et in Arcadia ego'…'Even in Arcadia there I am'. Get it? Arcadia is utopia, but the 'I' is Death."

She paused and looked up for a reaction. Magneto remained unresponsive.

"You're right," Mystique said with a stern nod. "Now isn't the time for quoting classics. But, hey, one less government scientist to worry about, right?"

Magneto showed no signs of hearing her. By the time she got through everything, it was almost time for her to give her report to the Brotherhood. The paper crinkled as the shapeshifter refolded it with a sigh, her face turning serious. She stood and leaned over the man on the bed.

"I hope you're in there somewhere, Erik. I have a feeling something big is coming and this is just the calm before the storm. We're going to need you."

With that, she left the room. Magneto slept on.

Three hundred miles away, Charles Xavier turned the page of the newspaper and smiled.

"Et in Arcadia ego," he smirked to himself before closing the newspaper and picking up the phone to return William Stryker's call.


	2. Dream, send me a sign

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from Ryan Star's "Brand New Day"

Erik found himself standing in a shapeless white room. Well, a shapeless white space would more adequately describe it since there were no discernible walls. Semantics became less of an issue as his vision cleared to the point that he could make out a large group of people – no, mutants – in front of him. Actually, it was two groups. Mystique, Emma, Riptide, and his Brotherhood formed the group on the left. To his right, Erik recognized Alex, Hank, Sean, Jean, Scott, Ororo, and others of Charles' X-Men. The two groups were yelling at each other, faces tarnished by anger, with a few feet of neutral space separating them.

Erik looked from one group to the other in confusion. Where was he? What was happening? Between one turn of his head and the next, a familiar figure appeared in the neutral space between the Brotherhood and X-Men. Charles Xavier stood facing him rather than either of the two groups. His focus was devoted to Erik, not sparing any attention to the two groups that flanked him. A movement behind Charles pulled Erik's gaze from his friend. Another figure was positioned underneath what appeared to be a chuppah he'd seen at a Jewish wedding as a child. The haze of memory left it faded and somewhat distorted, but it stood out against the white like a graying crocus in the snow. The silhouette was about ten feet from Charles' back and stood at the top of two stairs that led to the arch. Erik's stomach dropped as the figure sharpened. Sebastian Shaw grinned at him before focusing on Charles' back. Charles remained oblivious, keeping his gaze on Erik. The magnokinetic tried to move towards his friend to warn him of the danger, but found himself immobile.

Charles took a step backwards towards Shaw and stopped again, eyes never leaving Erik.

The yelling mutants remained unaware of both Charles and Shaw. Erik felt panic begin to rise.

Charles took another step back.

Erik tried to yank his unmoving feet from the ground, but they remained stuck in place despite his best efforts. The incoherent yelling of the two groups was beginning to overwhelm his senses.

Another step.

Giving up on his feet, Erik tried to shout, but the rabble of the Brotherhood and X-Men drowned him out. Why didn't they see the real danger…the danger that Charles was getting closer to with every step back?

Another step.

He looked down, desperately trying to find out why his feet were weighted to the floor. Seeing nothing, he looked back up. The groups were almost at one another's throats. Charles was a step closer to Shaw, who was virtually bouncing in anticipation. A giddy smile marred his face, the likes of which Erik had never seen before . Another step and Charles would be within Shaw's grasp. Erik swung his attention to the other mutants, all of whom were still too enveloped in the yelling to notice Charles' peril.

Fighting erupted between the groups. Punches, powers, everything. It was chaos. And just like that Erik could move. He shot into the crowd towards Charles and Shaw, but it was impossible to push through the battle. A laser blast from Alex missed him by inches. He caught a glimpse of Charles and his unyielding stare, expecting the same oblivious expression he'd worn before, but it wasn't there anymore. Instead, the telepath looked resigned. He lifted his foot and moved it back. Everything was in slow motion. Erik found his voice.

"Charles, NO!"

But it was too late. Charles took one final step backwards putting himself at the bottom of the stairs directly in front of Shaw. Shaw lifted his arms over the telepath, who raised his arms in tandem with the man behind him and dropped, boneless. Instead of falling to the floor, though, he remained on two feet, a perverse marionette attached to Shaw's invisible strings. As Shaw moved his arms, Charles twisted in involuntary motions, head lolling on his chest until a gesture from Shaw brought it shooting up. When his head jerked up, the telepath's expression was vacant, but his eyes…his eyes were full of immeasurable sorrow.

The fighting had stopped as soon as Charles became Shaw's plaything. The mutants fell to their knees in unison facing Shaw and Charles with blank obedience on their faces. Only Erik remained standing, frozen now not because of the dream, but from shock, guilt, and an overwhelming sense of fear.

Shaw kept using Charles like a five year old would a new toy. Erik maneuvered through the maze of kneeling mutants to get to the pair. It was at this point, now that he was closer and had an unimpeded view, that he noticed Shaw wasn't Shaw at all. Yes, the physical features were there, but the expression was off. The smile wasn't the one he'd seen so often in the camps during his years of "training". He would recognize that smile anywhere and this wasn't it. 'Shaw' looked at him, grinning and never ceasing to control Charles. The eyes…there was something there. It wasn't Shaw, but it was familiar. He had seen it before, but where? His head was starting to hurt. Try as he might, he couldn't place what he was seeing in Shaw. The harder he tried, the more it slipped away.

Everyone was on their knees and Charles was performing a dance that wasn't his and 'Shaw' wouldn't stop grinning and Erik couldn't breathe and his head hurt, ithurtsomuch, and-

Magneto shot up with a gasp. The white space was gone, replaced by the bed and his room in headquarters. The throbbing in his head began to fade. There was a chair beside the bed and a pile of newspapers beneath his table. Picking one up, he noticed the date. December 1968. But that was impossible! It had been spring! And...what had he been dreaming? Shaw was there, wasn't he? What was going on?! The words on the page blurred. He realized he was still struggling to breath. Getting his panting under control, he blinked and tried to regain his sense of balance.

Slowly, everything shifted back into focus. The remnants of the dream melted away into his subconscious. All that was left was a murmur that had a suspiciously British accent.

_The eyes, Erik. It's always in the eyes._


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> italics = telepathy

Magneto's fingers grazed the helmet, now back in its rightful place on his head, just to reassure himself of its presence. He sat in the middle of a scattered pile of newspapers. There was so much to catch up on and even more he felt like he would miss as he struggled to do so.

Mystique had come in and found him conscious not long after he'd woken. This had prompted a shriek (which was immediately denied) followed by almost an hour of mental examination from Emma (despite his protests) and physical examination by the closest person they had to a doctor. After he was declared physically and mentally fit, Emma left Mystique to explain what had happened while she informed the rest of the Brotherhood of his recovery. Erik couldn't find it in himself to do anything other than sit against the headboard, dumbfounded.

"Six months? I've been unconscious for six months?"

Mystique gave a sympathetic smile. "Yeah. A lot has happened."

"But how…"

"We have no idea. The machine must have backfired. We found you unconscious. None of our scientists have been able to figure out what went wrong. What do you remember?"

"It's…a bit of a blur. I set everything up. I stepped into the machine and-"

He was forgetting something, he knew it, but whatever it was slipped from his grasp any time he got close.

"It's alright," Mystique said. "Don't push yourself. It might come back to you. I need to take care of some things...check how Emma is doing with everyone else. I'll be back as soon as I can to finish filling you in. Can you handle yourself for a little while?"

Magneto scowled. "I am not an invalid."

This just brought more of a smile to Mystique's face. "It's good to have you back," she said as the door clicked shut behind her.

* * *

Charles was skimming papers, grading them with absent flicks of his wrist, when the phone rang.

"Damn," the telepath whispered to himself, cursing the interruption. He was almost finished. With an annoyed sigh, he picked up the phone. "Hello?"

"Charles?"

Charles would recognize the voice on the other end of the line anywhere. "Ah, Mystique, isn't this a surprise. How can I help you?"

"I just thought I'd let you know that Magneto woke up."

Charles shot straight up in his chair. The brake creaked in complaint at the sudden motion. "Did he?"

"Yeah, so you can stop ransacking your brain to come up with a way to help him."

"That's wonderful news," he replied, ignoring the blatant sarcasm behind his sister's tone. "Has he said anything? Does he remember how it happened?"

There was a beat of silence. "No, but we're hoping it'll come back to him. He just woke up, after all. Give it time. What was it you told me? 'Patience is bitter, but its fruit is sweet.'"

"I knew you listened to me."

"Every now and then." Another beat of silence. "We haven't heard from you for a while. What have you been up to, Charles?"

The question was innocuous enough, but the tone sounded more like she was testing the waters than anything else. Charles frowned. "This and that. Trying to instigate peace between two conflicting parties who seem bent on attacking one another. It's quite time-consuming. Speaking of which, I have a rather urgent errand to run. Thank you for letting me know about Erik. It's always lovely to hear from you."

He hung up, no doubt leaving the shapeshifter staring open-mouthed at the receiver. He knew his sister after all. As soon as the phone was back on its cradle, Charles leaned his elbows on the desk, his head resting on steepled fingers. It was time to do some thinking.

* * *

Magneto managed get a decent meal in his system before his desire to see what the world had been up to was too overwhelming to ignore. By the time the shapeshifter returned, he'd spread all the newspapers out around him in an effort to reacquaint himself with the world. Emma, Riptide, and Angel were in tow this time. They positioned themselves around their leader with Mystique directly across from him.

"Tell me of the Brotherhood," he demanded. No need to dance around what needed to be addressed.

"It's…functioning. We're compiling reports of the missions from the past six months, plus all the doctor's analyses of your condition. We picked up a few members. You can meet them formally tomorrow. We, um," she paused, insecure for the first time since he'd woken, "Azazel left. Disappeared not long after you were…incapacitated. We haven't heard of or from him since."

That was unexpected. Azazel had seemed loyal to their cause. "Are we sure he wasn't captured?"

"If he was, it wasn't by any of the major governments. We'd know. They wouldn't be able to keep a teleporter captive without significant difficulty. We kept an eye out for demand for materials that might hold him, but there haven't been any inconsistencies that would point to him being captured. Best we can figure, he skidaddled to do his own thing in case the Brotherhood fell apart."

"He will come back if and when he wants," Riptide added. "He is not one to stay in a tenuous position when he has other options."

Erik nodded slowly. Something flickered at the back of his mind, the echo of a yell overwhelmed by the crunching of metal. "Charles? Is Charles alright?"

Mystique's brow furrowed. "All appearances indicate that he's fine. He couldn't help with your condition. Other than that, it's been fairly quiet. Why do you ask?"

"I- I don't know."

Mystique gave Frost a sideways glance, who, in turn, looked to Riptide and Angel and motioned her head to the door.

"We're needed elsewhere," the White Queen said without pause as she glided to the exit. Riptide and Angel followed after a moment, though their frowns evidenced their reluctance to leave.

"Good to have you back, Magneto," Angel got in just before the door shut. As soon as the two were alone, Mystique moved closer to Erik and put a hesitant hand on his knee.

"Are you alright?"

Erik realized his breathing had picked up and his heart felt like it was about to beat out of his chest at any moment. He hadn't felt like that since Charles had disappeared in India.

"I…was worried."

"Buy why?"

"I don't know!" he yelled, throwing the paper he'd been holding to the ground with a thwap. "I just- I thought…"

"He's angry. As angry as Charles can be, which usually means the silent treatment. He's barely spoken a word outside of checking your condition since the incident. He's…off. But, then again, he's busy with the school and dealing with people who don't deserve his time of day."

"Sounds like him," Erik commented. He had calmed, but couldn't fully quell an undercurrent of distress. This wasn't helped by shapeshifter's expression. She'd become quite skilled at schooling her features, but there was an unease that she couldn't fully disguise despite her considerable talents.

Mystique pulled her hand back and sat up, back in command mode. "We can talk more about Charles later," she said as she sat the paper Magneto had tossed away back on his lap. "Catch up. I'll send those reports up here as soon as they're organized. Make sure you rest too. We have things to do."

With a conspiratory smile, she left Erik on his own again. He picked up a paper at random and opened it. A picture of Charles was fitted in the corner of the page. He sat regally in his wheelchair giving a talk on a large stage. One arm was raised as he made his point, but his eyes were focused on the camera. It was almost as if the telepath was trying to meet his gaze through the lens. There was something different about his posture…the slightest alteration in the way the telepath held himself that drew Erik's attention. He scoured the papers for any sign of activity from Charles and his X-Men, but came up empty-handed. Only number of lectures and public appearances talking about genetics. Maybe the mission reports would be more telling. The first picture migrated back into Erik's view. He picked it up again, narrowed his eyes, and stared down at the page. Pixilated blue stared back at him.

"What have you been up to, my friend, with me out of your way?"

The ink gave him no reply. With a huff, he set the paper down and moved on to another. The world was a busy place and Magneto needed to know what it was up to.

* * *

Not too long after the phone call from Mystique, Charles had come to a decision. The telepath reached out with his mind and found Hank in the kitchen.

_Hank?_

_Your tea is almost ready, Professor. Then we can talk more about those modifications to Cerebro-_

_Change of plans. I need the coordinates of the boy we found in our session the other day._

_Could you be more specific? What was his power?_

_Astral projection._

A pause followed during which Charles could feel the other's mind working furiously.

_Why do we need to find him now, if you don't mind me asking?_

_I have a feeling he might be of use to me._

Charles could feel Hank frown through their connection. He grimaced.

_And, of course, because we can help him. His case hasn't left my thoughts since I felt his mind. I sense that he has a great deal of power that he could use help channeling. It's about time for another recruiting trip anyway, don't you agree?_

It had been a while since they'd gone recruiting, but it was nearing Christmas time. Hank had thought they'd be waiting until the new year to pick up recruiting again.

_Hank? The coordinates?_

McCoy shook his head. He could think more about incongruities between Charles and his thoughts later.

_Of course, Professor._

Charles broke off the connection. He'd almost forgotten how quickly events could progress sometimes. It was a good thing he worked well on his toes…so to speak, he thought as he spared a glance at his immobile feet. No matter. Everything was well under control here. He finished throwing the last grades on the stack of papers, then moved away from his desk. He had a recruiting trip to get ready for.


	4. Seek and you will find

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from Matthew 7:7

Alex, Sean, and Charles arrived at 295 Forge Avenue at exactly 1 pm. A well-built college-aged boy answered the door. He immediately honed in on Charles.

"You must be Professor Xavier."

"I am," Charles replied as he shook the boy's proffered hand. "Nathaniel Grey I take it?"

"Everyone calls me Nate. Come on in."

The house was well decorated with the exception of a stack of pizza boxes.

"Uh, right, sorry," he said as he pushed the boxes out of sight. "My parents aren't around and it's exam time. You run a school. I'm sure you know how it goes."

"Actually, Charles doesn't like the whole pizza-eating culture thing," Sean said. "He prefers the students to stress-drink tea."

Nate raised his eyebrows. "Seriously?"

"Please, I keep you all very well fed. Healthy habits are nothing to scoff at."

Alex rolled his eyes while Sean shook his head behind the professor's back and mouthed something about tyranny. Nate bit his lip to hold back a laugh, though he couldn't stop from smiling.

Charles scowled with a touch of fondness. "Alright, enough of that. Alex, Sean, now that you've been introduced, why don't you two wait outside while I talk with Mr. Grey."

"But, Professor-"

"Car. Now. You can discuss the indulgences of life outside the mansion if Nathaniel joins us."

"Fine," Sean pouted. Alex grabbed his arm and they marched out of the house with a wave to Nate.

Running a hand through his chestnut hair, Nate sat on the couch across from Charles.

"Mr. Grey-"

"Nate," the boy interrupted.

"Nate," Charles acknowledged, "you know why I'm here and where I'm from. I'm representing a school for…talented individuals such as yourself."

"You know, I'd think you were crazy if you hadn't talked in my head the other day. How did you do that, by the way?"

"A machine called Cerebro. But we're not here to talk about me. Why don't you show me what you can do."

Without pause, a copy of Nate appeared on the other side of the room. A grin spread on the telepath's face.

"Astral projection. What a fantastic ability. I must admit, I've dabbled in it myself."

The copy disappeared. "You can astral project?" Nate asked in awe.

"Well, I'm nowhere near as talented as you. I'm a telepath before anything else, but the scientist in me can't help but want to learn more. From what I sensed from you in our initial encounter, I'd say you're considerably more talented than I am. You aren't holding back from me, are you? There's no need to be modest."

Nate smiled and looked to the floor. "Well, I can astral project, but sometimes, if I focus enough, I can create an actual physical form."

Something sparked behind Charles' eyes. "Now that is something I've never seen before. I don't suppose I could have a demonstration, could I?"

Nate squeezed his eyes shut in concentration. Not two seconds later, a solid form appeared next to Charles. Charles touched it with something akin to glee. As soon as the form appeared, Nate had relaxed. Charles pulled his reverent gaze from the form at his side to the actual mutant in front of him.

"It takes a great deal of concentration to do this, correct?"

"Yeah, but once it's formed, it's not that much trouble to hold it."

"Absolutely brilliant. Now, Nate, as I said, I'm a scientist. I love seeing how things work. Would you mind letting me into your head while you do that again? I promise not to go poking around where I'm not wanted."

"Uh, sure, I guess."

"Excellent. Whenever you're ready."

Charles followed every mental move the boy made. Another solid copy appeared and Charles grinned from ear to ear.

* * *

Alex pushed off the car where he'd been leaning as soon as he saw Charles exit the house. Sean was in an epic battle with his cup-and-ball he'd snagged from the school before they left. Charles moved to pair with ease.

"So, is he coming?" Alex asked. Sean fumbled the cup-and-ball and recovered enough to pretend he wasn't playing with a children's toy.

"I'm afraid not. He said he had his own studies to worry about. Once he's finished, perhaps he can join us."

"Aw, I liked him," Sean said. "Maybe if Alex and I talked to him-"

"No," Charles cut in. "I'm sure his mind is made up for the time being. There will be other boys with whom you can discuss the merits of the consumption of mass quantities of pizza. For now, we need to be on our way. I have an interview to prepare for, if you recall."

Both of the boys slouched in disappointment but made no further arguments. After getting Charles settled in the car, they drove away without a backwards glance.

* * *

When Raven had come to check Magneto's progress and found an empty room, it only took a few seconds to realize where he was. A quick glance at a clock confirmed it. She sped towards the living room cursing. The living room was, in reality, just a largish room where they'd set up a small television and some furniture. They had to keep up with newcasts after all. The room was almost full to capacity when she arrived. All the senior members of the Brotherhood had their eyes plastered to the screen, which wasn't all together unusual except for the varying expressions of surprise on their faces.

Mystique maneuvered herself behind the couch. She'd already missed most of the interview. On the screen, Charles sat perfectly composed in his wheelchair across the table from a not so perfectly composed man in a uniform. It was part of some national talk show. The Brotherhood only found out yesterday that Charles would be on and, whether they saw him as a former ally (Magneto and Mystique), a puzzle to be figured out (Emma), or a nemesis to be evaluated (everyone else), the Brotherhood was very interested in what he might have to say. The professor was supposed to serve as the counterpoint to one of the more outspoken anti-mutant officials, a man named Donovan Zane. Even on the black-and-white screen, Mystique could tell Zane was red in the face and huffing over whatever Charles just said. Charles, on the other hand, wore a vague smile and sat with his elbows propped up on the armrests of his chair so that his hands pressed together at the fingertips.

"They are a danger to society! They should be registered at the very least!" the other man shouted, pointing a pugnacious finger at Charles with every word.

The host somehow managed exude neutrality despite the animosity of his guest. "Thank you, Mr. Zane. I'm afraid it's time for our closing remarks. Dr. Xavier, do you have a rebuttal in the time we have left?"

"I do have one note I'd like to add," Charles began, addressing the huffing man across from him. "I know it may intimidate you and it may frighten you, but you cannot stop mutation. It is a part of the natural order." Something in the air changed. Even the viewers sat up a bit straighter as Charles leaned forward minutely, barely enough to be noticeable. The telepath was meeting the Zane's eyes straight on. If not for the wheelchair and her brother's nature, Mystique would've been certain the telepath was about to crawl across the table just to see the other man squirm. The change happened in a split second, taking just long enough for Charles to inhale and continue. "Your ideas of registration and…beyond…sound quite familiar. I believe a man put forth a similar proposal in Germany about three decades ago."

Zane flinched and blustered, "That's not-"

"Your intention? Of course it isn't!" Charles finished, making no effort to hide his patronizing tone. "Even so, you must be aware that if you do try to stop mutation, if you succeed and manage to commit genocide against the mutant race, you will doom not only the mutants you deem a 'threat', but all of humanity with them. Without mutation, the human race will become stagnant. Their inability to adapt will lead to their extinction. The past has shown this to be the case."

"That sounds like a threat, Dr. Xavier," the man replied, unable to keep the wobble from his voice.

"Does it?" Charles questioned. The air snapped back to its former pleasant neutrality as the telepath leaned back in his chair, congenial as ever. "It was merely a statement of scientific fact. The way you talk, as if mutants are a scourge to be wiped out, isn't what humanity should stand for. You could be so much better than that with all your minds in the right place. Besides, why would I threaten you when nature and evolution appear to be doing such a good job of it on their own?"

"Uh, I- I'm afraid I'll have to cut you off there," the host chimed in, wide-eyed and rattled before putting on a rickety smile. "That's all the time we have for today. I'd like to thank Dr. Charles Xavier and Lieutenant Colonel Donovan Zane for joining us."

Someone turned off the tv. The picture faded out on a frame of Charles' now polite smile, but Erik didn't notice. Charles' closing remarks echoed in his head.

_You could be so much better than that._

Just like that, a wall crumbled in his mind.

_"Erik, stop!"_

_"If you do this, you'll kill, widow, and orphan hundreds of men, women and children for not other reason than for being different that you."_

_"This isn't who you are! Death and destruction? You're so much better than that!"_

_"Please, Erik! Please don't do this!"_

Screaming resounded followed by darkness. As it began to recede, he heard an uproar of familiar voices around him.

"Magneto!"

"Is this a relapse?"

"What's happening?"

Erik snapped back to reality. Only then did he realize he was leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, hands clawing at his helmeted head. He blinked and sat back up, inhaling a few times to steady himself against the pounding in his skull.

"Magneto?"

Golden eyes full of worry appeared in his line of sight.

"He was there," Erik croaked.

"Who was where?" Angel asked from somewhere off to the side.

"Charles. Charles was there the night the machine failed. It was him."

Mystique was virtually periwinkle. "What? But...how..."

Emma was the only one to remain unshaken, at least to the naked eye. "I don't know much about Charles Xavier, but from what I do know, I think I can safely say that the person on that program wasn't very much like the good professor."

"Unless the mirror universe actually exists and infiltrated ours," one of the younger members interjected.

"Shut up, Toad! Not everything needs to be a Star Trek reference!" Angel hissed with a please-don't-smite-him glance at her leader. Erik and Raven, though, tensed for a different reason and glanced at each other. Fear flickered over Raven, but Erik kept his jaw clinched and remained unreadable.

"How long did you say Charles has been acting strangely?"

"Since the machine," the shapeshifter replied. The woman who had been leading the Brotherhood for the past half year was nowhere in sight. Instead, she was radiating misery like the sun gave off heat.

Magneto nodded. "I think it's time we drop in on Charles and his X-Men."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comic and cultural references:
> 
> Nate Grey: Poor Nate Grey. I butcher him and the idea of astral projection. Nate Grey has this massive storyline involving an alternate timeline and super intense psionic abilities (which I know of only through Marvel's wiki page). I'm reducing him to a lowly background character and only giving him astral projection, then probably butchering what astral projection actually is. But I took his name and purpose from the comics, so there it is. Oh, and his address is a reference to his comic background. He's from Earth-295 and his surrogate father figure was Forge. I might have forced it a little bit, but whatever. As for my (incredibly limited) knowledge of astral projection, this is my universe and astral projection works however I say it does. So there.
> 
> Cup-and-ball: Cup-and-ball is that game with a stick that has a cup and a ball attached by a string and you try to get the ball in the cup, in case you didn't know. It was on Family Guy. And Wikipedia. And, you know, childhood.
> 
> Donovan Zane: Leader of the Friends of Humanity following Graydon Creed. This is literally all I know about him. I'm not making Friends of Humanity an official part of this story and him being military is my own thing.
> 
> Mirror Universe: Refers to the Star Trek episode "Mirror, Mirror", which aired in October 1967 (and, interestingly, again in April 1968, which is about when I estimate the machine incident took place...funny how things turn out sometimes). In a nutshell, everyone is the opposite of who they are in the real universe, so good people are bad or at least morally ambiguous. Also, there are more goatees. Because only evil people and Tony Stark take the time to carefully manicure their facial hair.


	5. I am not what you supposed, but far different

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from Walt Whitman's "Whoever you are now holding my hand"
> 
> I adapt part of a fairly long quote from the comics. I'm not nearly cocky enough to assume that you won't recognize it's not mine in the story, but I hope I incorporated it well enough that you at least won't laugh at the discrepancy in writing mastery

With no teleporter, Magneto, Mystique, Emma, Riptide, and Angel had to get to Westchester using more conventional means. The lack of teleporter also meant Magneto couldn't bring as strong a contingent. He had to settle for taking his most experienced members. It was surprisingly annoying. Magneto made a mental note not to become so dependent on teleportation if Azazel ever came back.

Even with Emma shielding them, Magneto had no doubt Charles knew of their presence. Sure enough, Warren Worthington, also known as Angel much to the female Angel's chagrin ("I don't care if his wings have feathers, I called it first!"), met them at the door and led them silently to Charles's study. The Brotherhood contingent filed in. Warren didn't follow, instead closing the door in their wake. The X-Men were well represented nonetheless. Beast, Havok, and Banshee flanked the wall to the right of the entrance. Jean, Cyclops, and Storm were closer to Charles, who himself sat facing into the room from beside the window.

"Well," Charles began without introduction, "your visit is earlier than I'd hoped, but later than I'd expected."

Erik frowned. The tension in the room was palpable. Everyone (besides Charles, obviously) was on their feet, hackles raised. He was taken aback by the animosity around him. This was not what he had been expecting when he came here. He had known relations between the groups had deteriorated since his last encounter with the X-Men, but had things truly gotten this bad in the time he'd been unconscious?

He hadn't realized the silence had lasted so long until it was broken.

"What are you doing here, Magneto?" Scott growled.

"Yes, Erik, what are you doing here?" Charles replied with a sickly amiable smile. "Why have you come marching into my school with your most trusted advisers in tow?"

"We're not here to fight you, Charles. There are just a few matters we need to discuss. Perhaps if you and I could speak alone-"

"So you guys can kill him off like you've been killing off scientists and government workers?" Alex interrupted. "I don't think so."

"We would never-" huffed Raven, "and that wasn't us!"

"Oh, sure, so you're telling me government scientists make a habit of being in the wrong place at the wrong time?" Alex scoffed back. "You tried to take out a solid portion of New York. Who's to say you haven't all gone off the deep end?"

That was all it took to ignite both groups.

"We only kill people who need to be out of the way!" Raven shouted.

"Who are you to judge who lives and dies?" Storm questioned.

"Yeah, and you seem like you've had a really hard time adapting to that, Mystique," Sean snapped.

Any further arguments were lost in the rabble as everyone started yelling at once. Maybe it was that he was still recovering from being in a vegetative state not a week earlier, but the escalation took Erik completely off guard. Hank literally looked like he was about to pounce on someone. There was a breeze picking up in the room in time with Riptide's arguments. Charles came into view as the magnokinetic took a step back. Surely, the telepath was about to raise his hand, silence the fighting, and quote Socrates or Ghandi or some philosopher to try to instigate peace. As he hazarded a glance to his friend, his jaw almost dropped. Charles was not getting ready to make a fierce argument for peace. He was…smiling. He'd backed his wheelchair up so that he could see the entire scene and was just sitting there. Smiling. A sick feeling began rolling in Erik's stomach. He looked back and forth from the arguing groups to Charles.

A white space and two fighting groups with Charles in the middle stepping backwards lanced across his vision, then disappeared just as quickly. The magnokinetic couldn't suppress the gasp, though he was able to keep his balance. No one else noticed, too caught up in arguing, but when he came back to himself, Charles was looking at him instead of the X-Men and Brotherhood with a deadly half smile.

"And why in the hell did you take all that metal? What possible use could you have for it?" Emma was saying. The telepath hardly ever raised her voice, but there was a sharpness to the questions no one could miss. They'd come across a stockpile of nearly non-magnetic metal as they'd entered the grounds. Magneto himself had barely been able to sense the mass. Whatever its purpose, the X-Men had made no effort to try to hide it.

"Professor Xavier told us about your plans! We know you're going to try to build your own Cerebro. It won't work," Ororo responded, just as calmly as Emma, which would have been impressive if anyone had time to think about it. The flash of lightening outside was the only indication that the girl was losing her temper.

"What plans?" Riptide asked, a tinge of confusion slicing through his anger. "We have no such plans."

"What?" Banshee answered. Jean had taken a step back, distinctly uncomfortable, and Beast was starting to hesitate.

"Why would we use non-magnetic metals to build something when our leader is known as the Master of Magnetism?" Angel sneered.

"But the Professor said-"

"Charles?" Erik interrupted. The rest of the argument had died down enough that everyone heard him. In perfect synchrony, they turned to the wheelchair-bound telepath.

"Erik," he mimicked with a mocking twist of his head. He kept his gaze on Erik and raised his eyebrows as a teacher would as he tried to draw an answer from a student. The German stepped forward and the pair locked gazes. There was a glint behind Charles' eyes.

_The eyes, Erik, the eyes. It's always in the eyes._

In a flash, Erik's dream rampaged back into his mind. The fighting, his inability to impact anything, Charles becoming Shaw's puppet, everyone's mindless obedience. With his mind more recovered, though, he realized what had been off in the dream…that feeling he hadn't been able to place.

It absolutely couldn't be true. But the dream replayed in his head with far more clarity than the reality around him. Shaw had never been in control of Charles like he was in the dream, not even when he'd had Charles captured before the Cuban Missile Crisis. Yes, Charles hadn't been himself, but it wasn't because Shaw was controlling him. It was because of-

"Onslaught."

The word came out barely a whisper. In that moment, everything about the telepath shifted. His posture relaxed. He leaned back and crossed his arms loosely over his chest. If he had been able to move them, he surely would have crossed his legs as well. Most noticeably, the half smile on Charles' face morphed into a full-fledged grin.

"How good to see you face to face again, Erik. It's been far too long."

Even with all the suspicions he'd come in with, the confirmation was as good as a physical blow.

Realization then horror spread over Raven's features. "Oh, God…"

"But- but the glow! You're not glowing!"

"Astute as always, Mr. Cassidy."

"How long?" Erik asked, ignoring the fear stifling the room.

"You know how long," Onslaught said. "Since the machine."

A collective gasp of shock emanated from behind Erik. "Six months?"

Onslaught cocked his head. "Almost seven, actually."

"But-but how?"

"Easily and completely," he responded without missing a beat. At the lack of response, he let out a petulant sigh. "When you refused to back down all those months ago, Charles knew he had to stop you. He just didn't know how. I did. He'd been broken down so much between Stryker and Sabretooth and constantly fighting your Brotherhood. You bringing up that poor abused boy put him right on the edge. All I had to do was wait for you to push him over. The second you refused to listen, he lost his hope. Just for the blink of an eye, but it was long enough. What was it you had your troops rally behind in Cuba? 'It only takes getting the upper hand once to win', right? How devastatingly accurate. I hadn't quite counted on the boost I got from you though. It's been ever so helpful at securing my dominant position."

"You're why Magneto was unconscious for so long," asserted Emma.

"He should have stayed that way," Onslaught bit back. "It would've easier on everyone, especially him."

"What did you do to me?" Erik cut in, staring at Charles like he didn't know him, which was, in truth, a fairly accurate assessment at the moment.

"That's the topper. It wasn't me. That was Charles," Onslaught said looking inordinately pleased with himself at their incredulity. "Did you really think he wouldn't do everything in his power to stop you? It was quite a proud moment for us. Scary what we can do together, isn't it?"

"But what did you do to me?" Erik asked again more emphatically.

"I stopped the power source."

_Erik and Charles were both yelling as the helmet went flying from the magnokinetic's head. The machine was beginning to power up. There was no way to stop it. With overwhelming desperation, Charles reached out to Erik's mind and pulled until something came loose and rushed back towards him-_

The mutants gasped as the room reformed around them. Magneto, still-helmeted, could only watch everyone react to a vision he couldn't see. He took one step forward before Emma's voice stopped him short.

"You took Magneto's consciousness into yourself," she said, both disbelieving and awed.

"He can do that?"

Onslaught gave a nonchalant shrug in Riptide's direction. "Apparently we can," Onslaught began before facing Magneto. "As soon as you collapsed, we realized what we had done. We couldn't very well have you knocking around up here." He tapped his forehead. "Already crowded enough, what with Charles and me. So we put you back. It's rather more difficult than it sounds though. Like pouring a glass of milk back into the carton. There's always a bit of a residue left over no matter what you do. That's what happened to us."

"I'm lost," Angel cut in, halfway between derision and confusion. "What happened to you?"

"There was a little bit of your fearless leader left over. Just a smidgeon, but that's all I needed. Where Charles was weakened by our show of power, I was strengthened. And you, Erik Lehnsherr, you helped me see the light. You see, Charles made a mistake. A simple, tragic mistake. An honest mistake, but a mistake nonetheless. He believed in us. He believed that if we, as mutants, comported ourselves with pride and dignity…if we somehow kept the humans from dragging us through the mud of their genetic insecurities…that we could forge a better world for all our races. He believed that by taking humanity by the hand we could lead it like a frightened child out of the darkness of ignorance and into the light of a new decade. But as I've said, he was wrong. Look around you. Look at the tragic mess the world has become while we've sat here in the safety and comfort of this mansion convincing ourselves we've been doing some good. But all that changes. Today. I have decided it is time we take control and resolve these problems. Once and for all."

There was nothing but stunned silence until Scott regained his voice and murmured, "You're insane".

Onslaught ignored the boy. "I am my own person now. I have my own ideals…my own plans. I just knew you'd be the one who would help me escape, Erik. I'm eternally grateful."

"It's not possible," Erik whispered.

"Oh, come now," Onslaught pouted. "Give me some credit! It was quite impressive! I pulled off the coup of the decade, maybe even the century! I took over Charles Xavier's body and powers, giving me direct control of the most powerful group of mutants on the planet, no offense Erik, and nobody had any idea for months! The only reason anyone figured it out was because you were able to break down the mental barriers a bit sooner than I'd estimated."

"Because Charles left him bread crumbs to lead him out of the forest," Mystique said. "Charles, fight this! Fight him!"

Onslaught laughed outright. "Oh, darling, I've been in charge for months. He may have been able to leave a few clues as I locked him away, but I assure you, he won't be galloping to your rescue again. I've taken an impressive number of lives, mind-wiped even more, and taken part in a multitude of other activities proper little Charles would deem unethical. Do you really think that he would have allowed me to do that if he could have regained control?"

The shapeshifter let out an outraged growl.

"I'm afraid your game of spewing uplifting anecdotes won't work this time. Before, I just had the memory of you, Erik," he spat. "This time I have part of your consciousness…part of Magneto. I'm stronger than any of you ever imagined I could be. Speaking of which, I think it's time to lose the training wheels and stand on my own two feet."

With no further warning, the telepath slumped forward. At the same time, a perfect copy of Charles appeared next to the wheelchair. He stood and glanced at himself before giving a thoughtful nod of approval. He wore a suit in the same hues favored by Magneto in a deeper shade, yet with an air that read distinctly of Charles Xavier. Pants, gray and impeccably tailored, shirt of deep purple and collared with the top two buttons undone. A fitted maroon vest covered the shirt in part.

"That's better," the apparently corporeal entity asserted as he adjusted the vest down.

"What did you just do?" Sean choked out.

"Astral projection," Hank winced, eyes closed in self-loathing realization. "That's why you were so desperate to get to Nate Gray. Please tell me you didn't kill him."

Onslaught gripped the back of Charles' neck with delicate fingers and pulled the unconscious man back to rest in the chair more comfortably. "I didn't. He's very confused as to how he lost half of hour of time though. Why kill someone who may be of use to me later?"

"All those disappearances, all those attacks you blamed on the Brotherhood. That was you," said a grim Storm. Her voice barely kept from breaking at the end.

"Yes. Sorry," he replied, sincerely insincere. He was about to continue when his attention snapped to Jean. No one had heard a word from her, but she was tense, eyes narrowed in concentration. "Oh, Jean, let's not do that." The redhead cried out and grabbed her head before collapsing to the floor unmoving.

"Jean!"

Storm knelt by her friend's side. Scott's visor lit up, but didn't fire. Onslaught rolled his eyes. "Oh, I didn't kill her. She has far too much potential. Didn't I just finish saying I wouldn't kill someone who could be of use to me later? I simply didn't want her poking around. Speaking of which, do you think you're being stealthy, Miss Frost, or are you purposefully floundering about in my head to test my patience?"

Emma froze, then lowered her head in further concentration. Onslaught flinched and steeled himself with a poisonous smile. "Have it your way then. Just let me take care of something first."

With the wave of his hand, a paperweight flew at an inhaling Sean and Angel. Both dropped unconscious in one swoop before they could use their powers. At the same time, a rope whizzed out from underneath the desk and twisted itself around Riptide's twirling hand, then slithered around his body. In one quick motion, the rope shot away with enough momentum to snap the windmaker's wrist and spin him like a top into the nearby cabinet. He joined Sean and Angel unconscious on the floor. The thick rope then wound around Magneto, who had lunged for Onslaught the second Emma lowered her head. His fingers were inches from the entity's face when he came to a sudden halt and was tossed back to have an up close and personal discussion about his failure with the wall.

Emma was battering against Onslaught's shields all the while. She was unsuccessful in stopping him, but then again, seven seconds wasn't a lot of time to defeat the most powerful telepath on Earth. Onslaught moved his focus back to her.

"Alright. Your turn."

* * *

When Emma opened her eyes, she was someplace very familiar.

"Should have known he'd bring us here," she murmured.

A split second later, Onslaught stood in front of her. Sean's comment about glowing made sense in an instant. The man was surrounded by a corona of orange light blazing softly against the landscape. Onslaught took a moment to evaluate his new environment. They stood in a lush field of well-manicured grass. In the distance was a diamond fortress and to the side a forest of deep green conifers. The sky shone blue-white above them. Onslaught let a thoughtful eye linger on the fortress.

"You'll never get in," said Emma, breaking the other entity's focus.

"Oh, I'm not after your fortress of secrets," Onslaught replied. "I'm here to make sure you don't get in my way."

A person-sized cage of deformed diamond appeared ten feet behind Emma. She frowned at it and turned to Onslaught.

"That's for you, my dear. When I'm finished."

Emma bit her tongue and continued to stare at the other telepath, who had taken to re-assessing his environment once more. The trees swayed lazily, more like seaweed caught in an ocean current than anything earthbound. Diamond windchimes tinkled in the non-existent breeze. Onslaught noticed for the first time that crystals were scattered across the ground, serving as the earth the grass took root in.

"Well, Miss Frost, you have quite the pristine mind," smirked Onslaught. "The things I could do to it. The phrase 'bull in a china shop' comes to mind."

"Get out," Frost demanded, her tone as cold as her name.

"Mmm, I think not. You wanted a fight, you'll get one."

A wisp of the corona around him lashed out at Emma. She flinched back as it struck a barrier a foot in front of her. The shield shone like a topaz as the energy dispersed. Before the light had a chance to fade, a bolt of jagged diamonds lanced towards Onslaught's chest. The corona ground it to dust.

Onslaught leered while Emma stood, wary but steadfast.

"That was very good, love. How long do you think you can keep it up?"

"As long as it takes for Magneto to subdue your physical body."

"I hope that's not your only plan. My attack should keep them scrambling for at least a minute, maybe even a minute and half. You know as well as I how time works in the mind. Minutes in here are the briefest of seconds out there. So I ask again, how long do you think you can keep this up?"

Emma pursed her lips. "Long enough. This is my mind, sugar. You're on my turf."

"I always did like a challenge."

Another corona bolt swept at Emma only to be met with a rain of diamonds. Through the storm, another diamond bolt shot at Onslaught. It shattered halfway with a wave of Onslaught's hand. The battle began in earnest.

Anyone watching would have said the two were fencing with foils of light and diamond. The pair moved back and forth with complex mental footwork matched only by the strikes they made with their respective weapons.

The ground shifted, catching Onslaught off balance. He took a diamond strike to the arm as he fell. The ground tossed and turned beneath him. He used the momentum to roll onto his feet and planted himself on the still waving dunes, then threw another coronal bolt at his advancing opponent. She ducked it, but stopped moving forward.

"You thought your manipulations would keep me off balance longer, yes?"

"Maybe not for as long as I'd hoped, but they seem to work well enough," she responded with a nod at the arm he was favoring. The hills flattened back into the field it was before as she spoke.

"I hope you aren't tiring already. It's barely been half a minute in the real world."

"I could do this all day."

"Thatta girl."

Then the pair was off again. A storm rose up and the ground shook, but Onslaught was prepared now and able to counterbalance.

The fight itself showed no signs of stopping, but eventually the storm tapered off and the ground movement waned until both stopped completely. Onslaught had a feral glint, like a lion noticing a gazelle beginning to fall behind its herd. Emma's shots became wilder with much more force, but far less accuracy.

Just like that, Onslaught started backing Emma up. Every shot he took was punctuated with a step forward by him and a stagger back by her. Onslaught let off a barrage of rapid fire that pummeled the woman backwards, herding her towards the diamond cage. The blonde tried to defend against the blasts, but could do nothing except spare fearful glances at the prison she was approaching. Any time she tried to maneuver away, she was struck back onto the course Onslaught laid out. With a final bolt, Onslaught sent her tripping backwards into the box. She fell onto her elbow and lay on her side catching her breath. Onslaught loomed over her just outside the enclosure with his hand resting on the open door.

"It was a fine fight. Best one I've had in a while. Such a shame you wouldn't cooperate."

"You can't keep me here forever," Emma panted back.

"I think you'll find that I can."

Emma pushed herself to her feet, but it was too late. The diamond door swung shut. Onslaught backed away then disappeared, leaving nothing but a blurry outline pounding against an unbreakable prison.

* * *

Erik realized his tactical error as soon as Onslaught revealed himself. Never fight in a location that limits you if you can help it. Their location – Charles' school, housing who knows how many children and other mutants – had them at a distinct disadvantage. Four of the players' powers, including his, were rendered null. Onslaught could match him point for point using smaller projectiles and anything large would have to come from the inner workings of the mansion, which would no doubt threaten the structural integrity of the whole wing. Havok and Cyclops, despite their admirable control, would cause the same damage with a miss. They wouldn't risk collapsing the house on everyone. Storm's powers were strong but fitted to an outdoor setting. That left Beast and Mystique (both of whom had non-advantageous powers for the present predicament), Banshee, Riptide, Angel, Jean, and Emma.

Then Jean was down.

Erik saw the moment Emma decided to take Onslaught on and knew exactly what she was doing. She was buying them time. If she could distract Onslaught mentally, they could subdue him physically. He was moving the instant her eyes went distant. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw movement from Sean, Riptide, and Angel as well. What none of them counted on was Onslaught anticipating their play.

The next he was aware, Mystique's nimble fingers were pulling at the knots of the rope wrapped around him while Banshee, Riptide, and Angel lay unconscious. Everyone seemed perfectly willing to take Emma's strike against Onslaught as a reprieve to regroup. Storm was still tapping Jean's cheek. Alex was knelt beside Sean, who was starting to come around. Surprisingly, Scott was by an unmoving Angel and Hank was tending to a barely conscious Riptide's wrist.

"They've been like that for just over a minute," Mystique said while motioning to Onslaught and Emma. The pair had their heads down in telepathic battle. "You've been out for 55 seconds of it." The shapeshifter spoke with clinical neutrality, but couldn't quite restrain the edge of panic in her voice. The rope remained steadfast. Erik tried to help, but could only shrug and twist against his restraints.

"Leave it," he commanded the shapeshifter. "You need to fight him now while he's distracted."

"But you-"

"Anything that I can do to help can be done from down here. Emma is distracting him. You need to do this now."

After a split second of indecision, Mystique stood and whistled. Taking her cue, the others stopped their ministrations and joined her, though Alex motioned for his brother to stay down.

But they had lost their window. As they were about to attack, Emma gasped and fell. Onslaught's gaze snapped to reality to watch her do so before taking in the rest of the room.

"Oh, look at that! Beast, Mystique, Havok, and Banshee! The original X-Men reunited and ready to face off against me once more! Brilliant!"

"What did you do to her?" Riptide uttered, weak and aghast.

"Put her somewhere where she won't be a bother to me," Onslaught replied.

"But how-"

"What you all still fail to grasp is exactly what I'm capable of," interrupted the entity. "You're upset about some parlor tricks. Throwing a bit of metal and twisting some rope? Child's play! I'll admit Miss Frost was more of a challenge, but if you're going to play the Queen's Gambit, you should make sure the rest of your pieces can handle themselves because I assure you I can do far worse. I can make all of your worst fears become reality."

He snapped to Hank, who stepped back at the sudden attention. "Beast is terrified that his mind will follow his body…that all his intellect and genius will be siphoned away and replaced with instinct and a primitive nature. What good would you do the world then?"

Beast whimpered and hunkered down on the floor.

"Hank?" hazarded Alex. But the scientist shrunk away grunting with hunched shoulders until he was pressed to the wall. His eyes darted to the other mutants in the room without comprehension.

"And you, Alex," Onslaught addressed.

The blonde turned his stubborn gaze on Onslaught, but couldn't hide the fear edging into his eyes.

"You are terrified of being alone. All that time in solitary only made it worse. Even after all this time, you're positive that your powers and violence will drive everyone away until all that's left is your brother. When he leaves, as he no doubt will, you will be well and truly alone. As it was before, it will always be."

Alex collapsed and drew in on himself. Scott was by his side in a second, cupping his face.

"Alex? Come on, Alex, say something?"

A few tears streaked down Havok's face in response as he stared blankly at the floor, oblivious to everyone else. Scott did the only thing he could think and embraced his brother while whispering reassurances. Alex remained catatonic. With a yell, Scott fired a shot at Onslaught, who easily ducked. The window shattered with the blast, spewing glass and framing which Onslaught promptly redirected at Ororo. The girl hit the floor to avoid most of it and protect Jean. Her back took the brunt of the attack. After it had settled, she tried to sit back up, but a large piece of glass shifted in her shoulder and she collapsed back down with a cry of pain.

"You Summers boys," Onslaught sneered, "no matter how much you practice, you still manage to hurt the people you care about with your power."

Scott was stricken. Onslaught moved on to his next target. Mystique, for her part, kept her flinch minimal

"You, dearest, oh your worst fear is already taking place, albeit in the early stages. Humans persecuting you. Being separated from your friends. And now you don't even have big brother to save you. I will admit it's far better than the fears you had when we were children. 'Why am I not pretty enough for you? Why do you make me hide?' Do you have any idea how annoying it was to have to deal with your insecurities day after day, year after year? It was exhausting!"

"Charles would never-"

"And look where it got him," he scoffed as if Raven hadn't said anything. "You abandoned him! Left him alone and remind him of his failures every time you kill a human...every time you meet, in fact! You fight against his core beliefs! And to think you said you loved him."

Any weakness in the shapeshifter evaporated as Raven rose up in defiance. "We have our differences, but he's still my brother and I do love him!"

Onslaught tilted his head. Raven clutched at her throat and choked on her own voice. Fear leaked back onto her face. Satisfied, Onslaught began chanting.

'Be that word our sign in parting, bird or fiend,' I shrieked, upstarting –

Tears welled up in Raven's eyes as she recognized the passage. She fought to speak, but Onslaught's hold couldn't be broken. Onslaught continued.

'Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore!  
Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!  
Leave my loneliness unbroken!- quit the bust above my door!  
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!'  
Quoth the Raven,

Onslaught gestured theatrically at Raven with one hand and gave her an expectant look.

"Nevermore," she grit out between her teeth, still fighting his hold. As soon as the word was out, he released her. She was left panting and wiping the tears streaking down her face.

Of course, now was the moment the rope finally fell away from Erik. Instead of attacking, he stood slowly and evaluated his next move. Now was not the time for rash battle decisions. His eyes settled on Charles, who was slumped and seemingly forgotten in his chair. Nobody else moved, taken too offguard by the physical and psychological attacks of the being wearing their mentor's face.

"What? Does nobody want to put all that training you've been doing to good use?" Onslaught mocked. "Maybe- none of that, Erik!" Onslaught caught the handle of Charles' wheelchair to stop its movement away from him. "I think I'm going to take him with me. He's such good company after all."

Onslaught knocked away the stapler Erik halfheartedly threw at him with a casual sweep of his arm. The room filled with the sounds of defeat, despite the aggression pouring from Magneto.

"You're really not going to fight me, oh so powerful Magneto? I'd really been hoping for more of a challenge. Are you still weakened from your last encounter with Charles? Or are you simply not strong enough to defend your people anymore?"

Magneto bristled. "If I fought you, we'd take the house down with us."

"Only the house? So modest! I'm sure we'd demolish the entirety of Westchester County. I never saw you as one to choose human lives over a fight. Of course, it's not the humans you're worried about, is it?" Charles' doppelganger said with a glance to the mutants in various states of distress around him.

"We're going to stop you," Erik growled. "It may not be here and now, but we will be prepared next time."

"I hope so. This was rather embarrassing, wasn't it?"

Erik snarled, but did nothing. He wouldn't let himself be goaded like a teenager.

Onslaught made a disappointed hum and sighed. "I suppose I've had my fun. I believe it's time for me to take my leave."

Azazel appeared in his usual puff of smoke. Onslaught took in the shocked faces of the Brotherhood members.

"Oh yes, I'm afraid I commandeered Azazel when you first called me about Erik's lack of consciousness. He's been quite handy, especially to someone with limited mobility such as myself…well, Charles. Anyway, thank you for the bout. I've needed to stretch for months. I trust we'll do it again soon."

Before anyone could move, Azazel gripped both Onslaught and Charles' unconscious form. In a last-minute bid for a sliver of victory, Erik swept his arm out. Charles' wheelchair jerked out of the teleporter's grasp a millisecond before he disappeared with a wrathful-looking Onslaught. The force toppled the chair and sent Charles sprawling to the floor. Raven was at his side in a flash. The telepath didn't move and showed no signs of regaining consciousness. She turned her concerned gaze to Erik, who was taking in the scene in the silence that had abruptly fallen with Onslaught's disappearance.

It was a warzone after the battle had advanced and left behind the wounded. Beast was cowering on the ground muttering garbled equations to himself. Jean was still out. Scott had an arm around Alex, whose breathing was labored. Angel had blood running down her forehead and Riptide was cradling his injured wrist. The pair had migrated to the fallen White Queen, where they squatted awkwardly, unsure how to react. Sean was standing but appeared dazed. He looked at Magneto.

"So...what now?"

Erik looked back down to Charles, whose face was currently being cradled by Raven, and had no idea how to answer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Adapted comic plot points (spoilers for 1996 Onslaught comic arc):
> 
> Onslaught's origin: Onslaught first forms when Charles super pissed at Magneto and pulls Magneto's consciousness from him, which leaves him catatonic. The leftover bits of Magneto's consciousness combined with Charles' repressed desire and, voila, you have the equivalent of Charles and Erik's child without all that pesky mpreg action!
> 
> Onslaught's emergence: There were lots of events that contributed to Onslaught taking over Charles. I discarded some and made up some of my own, but the two that I pulled from the comics were his failure to rehabilitate Sabretooth and the murder (or beating in my story) of the mutant boy just outside the school's grounds.
> 
> Nate Grey: I mentioned in the last chapter that I borrowed Nate Grey's purpose from the comics. That purpose being that he pulled Onslaught from the astral plane into reality, inadvertently showing him how to escape Charles' mind. Whoops.
> 
> Onslaught quote: From Onslaught: X-Men ("Traitor to the Cause", Vol. 1) from 1996. Everything Onslaught says from "I made a mistake" to "Once and for all" is almost directly quoted from the comic. The whole quote is almost 300 words long. If you want it, I can send it to you. What I have here is the first half and the last few lines. The only two things I changed were a few pronouns (because Onslaught is still pretending to be Charles in the comics at this point so he used "I" instead of "he") and "millennium rising" to "next decade". Admittedly, "millennium rising" is 1000 times cooler, but it doesn't work nearly as well in 1968 as 1996.
> 
> Again, I have little to no understanding of chess and Google was no help to me. Hopefully my usage of "Queen's Gambit" was legit.
> 
> The passage Onslaught recited to Raven is from Edgar Allen Poe's 'The Raven'. I thought it was fitting.
> 
> There are a two offhand/adapted references to the comic plot:  
> 1\. Onslaught traps Juggernaut in his ruby. Emma is trapped in diamond (sort of) here.  
> 2\. Onslaught has a minion in the form of Dark Beast. That role is sort of filled by Azazel here.


	6. A thing long expected takes the form of the unexpected when at last it comes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title is a quote by Mark Twain

Sean sat folded into a chair in the corner of a bedroom, arms crossed petulantly over his chest, eying the room's other occupant. In the eternity of about two hours since Onslaught had disappeared, Magneto had taken charge. As the only standing mutant in the room, Sean had been sent to check on the rest of the school's inhabitants and bring back help. The kids were fine, thank goodness. He pulled a few of the older students aside and told them what was happening. Kitty and Piotr agreed to chaperone an impromptu slumber party for the children in the west library far from all the post-Onslaught chaos. Warren, Bobby, and one of the newer recruits, Alison Blaire, followed him back to Charles' study.

Warren took a still cowering Hank to the lab in hopes that he'd benefit from being in a more familiar environment. Magneto had gotten Scott to attempt to help Alex again. Scott was clearly not thrilled at the aspect of taking orders from the leader of the Brotherhood. He'd glared for whatever ambiguous amount of time he deemed appropriate to convey his discontent before taking his brother without so much as a word to Magneto. Bobby had tersely offered to ice Riptide's bruise-mottled and rope-burned wrist. Riptide had given his gratitude in the most grudging tone possible. Jean woke as Bobby helped Angel and Riptide carry Emma to the nearest bedroom. Alison guided the injured Ororo and shocked Jean from the room to care for Storm's back. Jean said she would be back to help the felled telepaths as soon as she could. After that, Magneto had taken the Professor from Mystique and laid him in his room. Sean had wanted to stay with him, but the look Mystique shot him made it clear that wouldn't be happening. Magneto steered him from the room saying something about how Mystique was a pro at sitting vigil at bedsides by now.

So that was how Sean reluctantly found himself watching the bed occupied by Emma Frost. Angel and Riptide had gone to a now recovered Hank to get their injuries tended to. His own concussion left him with a pounding headache and dizzying disorientation, but beyond that he was okay which set him on the poorly populated "functional" side of the injury spectrum. Mystique remained by Charles' bedside and Magneto was managing the no doubt chaotic medical area.

His concussed mind circled back around to how he'd really have preferred to sit with the Professor. Apparently Onslaught's emergence had brought about a resurgence in Mystique's sisterly instincts. Of course. She spends years fighting against them, ripping Charles' heart to shreds every time she killed someone or argued for Magneto's cause or even purposely sneered at them in battle, but the second Charles' psychopathic other half starts threatening the world and takes Charles out in the process, she drops everything and acts like it's 1962 again. Sean huffed an indignant sigh. As consolation, he'd been offered the lucrative position of keeping the other unconscious telepath company. You know, in case she suddenly recovered from Onslaught putting her somewhere she wouldn't bother him…whatever that meant. With nothing more than the offhand advice to "stay awake and let them know if his brain felt like it was bleeding out", Magneto had left him to it. Awesome. Never in his life had he longed more for his cup-and-ball.

An exhausted Jean chose that moment to enter. Magneto followed on her heels. Sean shot to his feet then fought to keep his balance as he wobbled. After a mental pat on the back for not tipping over like a tower of blocks, he met them at the bedside.

"How is everyone?"

"Alex is recovered, but he's pretty shaken up. Scott too. They're both resting. Ororo's back was a mess, but most of it was pretty superficial. She, Riptide, and Angel are stuck in medical until further notice. The kids are freaked out. Betsy picked up some of what's going on, so I had to go calm them down. It took a little longer than I thought it would."

Sean pinched the bridge of his nose with a sigh, a gesture he'd picked up from Charles. "Is there anything I can do?"

"Go get yourself looked over," Magneto said. He'd been watching the exchange with an odd expression. Sean held his gaze for a long moment before going back to Jean.

"Will you be good here? I can stay if you need me to. It's just a headache."

Jean shook her head. "You should go. You put off treatment long enough. Have Hank check you out and get some rest."

He paused, looking again to Magneto.

_I'll be fine, Sean. He's agreed to keep the helmet off as a sign of good faith. If he were up to something, I'd know._

Sean attributed the fact that he hadn't noticed the helmet was missing to his pounding head. Jean was very capable of taking care of herself. And he really wanted some aspirin or, you know, someone to detach his head from his body. At least then maybe it would stop hurting.

His exit left Jean with Magneto with the unconscious Emma.

"Do I need to do anything?" asked Erik.

"Just stay out of my way" was Jean's short reply. Erik's eyes widened minutely at the girl's back. No one here was showing him any respect except for maybe Sean right after Onslaught disappeared…and that was probably because of the concussion. It was getting ridiculous. He was trying to help here. Still, it was interesting to see the children he'd helped recruit acting like adults. He never would've taken Sean as one to step up in a situation such as this, but it seemed the boy was full of surprises. Jean, Scott, and Ororo…they'd just been teenagers when he'd left. Now they were leaders. Change, it seemed, didn't spare anyone from its touch.

Jean sat on the bed and closed her eyes. After about fifteen seconds, she reopened them.

"There's nothing I can do. He's trapped her in some sort of cage. I don't know what exactly he's done aside from that. I'm not strong enough to break her out and even if I was I don't know enough about what he did to even begin to know how to start. I need Professor Xavier."

Unfortunate, but not entirely unexpected. "Let's go get him then."

The pair entered Charles' room to find Mystique reading to him.

"Picking up where you left off with me?" Erik asked.

"Yep. Don't knock a proven method."

"A proven method? You consider six months an acceptable time range for a successful recovery tactic?" he teased.

Mystique shrugged; her face was deadpan but her eyes just as teasing as his tone. "Better than nothing."

"If you two are finished, I'd like to try to concentrate," Jean groused. Suitably scolded, the pair had the good sense to look ashamed and quiet down. Jean settled herself on the side of Charles' bed opposite Mystique. Fatigue was pouring from her like sheets of rain in a storm.

"After this, you should rest,"Mystique suggested softly.

Jean gave a wan smile then closed her eyes. Not five seconds later, they shot open again.

"Oh my god," Jean whispered as she pulled back. At the same time, Charles opened his eyes.

Metal ripped from the chair and wrapped around Charles' neck. Charles grabbed at it, disoriented.

"What's wrong? Is it Onslaught?" Erik asked Jean in a deadly tone.

"No!" the woman shouted as she shot forward to help her mentor. "That's not it at all! Get it off him!"

"Nice to see you too, Erik," Charles managed in a strained voice. He'd apparently acclimated to his environment during the short exchange. The metal pulled away from his throat but hovered nearby.

Charles rubbed the area the metal had just pulled away from and eyed Erik. "And, as you should well know, if I was still Onslaught that metal would have done you no good."

Erik's gaze narrowed, but he remained unapologetic. "What was that about then? Why was Jean so scared?"

"I wasn't scared. I was..." She glanced at Charles as she trailed off.

"She was caught off guard by an unexpected side effect of Onslaught asserting his independence."

"What kind of side effect?" Erik was trying to keep his frustration at bay. Ineffectively it seemed. What Charles said next made it disappear entirely.

"It seems he's taken my telepathy with him."

Raven's jaw dropped, dragging her head down a few degrees with it. Erik stood gobsmacked. A muffled thunk sounded as the metal that had been lingering in the air hit the carpet. Charles remained where he was, hands folded in his lap. From his posture, he could have just as easily commented on today's weather as his evil mental counterpart skipping away with his power. Jean was distraught.

When it became apparent no one was going to comment, Charles continued. "We can deal with that later. At present, I believe Miss Frost needs our help."

He began edging himself towards the side of the bed where his wheelchair was waiting. Raven recovered and pushed Charles back.

"You need to slow down!"

"She's right," Erik continued. "You've just regained consciousness for the first time in, what, seven months? And you're saying you're telepathy isn't functioning? You need to recover. Emma can wait."

"She really can't," the telepath said as he grappled comically against Mystique's hold. Every time he pushed a hand away, it found purchase somewhere else. He finally broke free. When she went to grab him again, he pointed a finger at her and gave a warning look only a brother could pull off. Raven stopped, but remained ready to pounce if he tried to move again. When he was sure she wouldn't make another jump at him, he continued. "I know what Onslaught did to her and while she could wait, she really shouldn't. Especially for as long as I suspect you would have me recuperate. The mind can be an unpleasant place."

"I understand what Onslaught is capable of doing, but you should still take time to recover."

Charles paused. Emotion broke through his expression for the first time, bright and imploring. "You have no idea the things I've seen myself do. If I stop, I'll have time to think. If I have time to think, it will suffocate me. I'd like to check at least one task off the to-do list before that happens if you don't mind."

That was enough to make Erik hesitate. Charles began shifting into his chair again. Raven didn't stop him, but didn't look happy about it either.

But Erik wasn't ready to give up yet. "If you've lost your telepathy like you say you have, how can you help her?"

"I assure you my telepathy is absent. At the moment, I'm completely human. Fortunately, though, my present condition shouldn't obstruct my ability to help your telepath. Jean can pull me into her mind." He nodded towards the fiery-haired woman walking around the bed to join him. She bit her lip with apprehension in her eyes.

"Are you sure I can do that, Professor?"

"Of course, my dear! You're far more skilled than you give yourself credit for. Once I'm there, it's a matter of assessing the damage and finding the weaknesses in Onslaught's cage. Since I happen to have a close relationship with Onslaught's mind and its inner workings, I should be able to do that fairly easily."

Nobody looked fully convinced.

"I still don't think this is wise," Erik said. "You should recover. Instruct Jean on how to revive Emma."

"I'm sorry, Magneto, but it's not that simple." Charles' tone was innocuous enough, but there was a bite behind it that Erik wasn't expecting. "I know more about what Onslaught did to her than anyone, but I need to be there to assess her condition and make the evaluation myself. Would you prefer a surgeon describe a procedure to a medical student then send her into the operating room or have the surgeon perform the surgery with the student?" He paused. "That is, unless you take issue with a human touching the mind of your telepath. I wonder, does your mission statement have any sub-clauses regarding humans who were previously mutants?"

Erik gawked. "I have no problem with you going into her mind if you can truly help her! It's your health I'm-"

"Excellent. Show me to her room then, Jean. We have no time to lose."

Erik and Raven were left stunned by the bed as Charles and Jean disappeared around the corner. How had Charles gone from unconscious to dazed to…to…that in less than ten minutes? And what was he thinking implying that Erik didn't want him in Emma's head! Erik's lips tightened into a thin line. He stormed after the two telepaths, meeting them as they entered Emma's room.

"How dare you accuse me of thinking less of you because of what Onslaught did!"

Charles pulled his chair by Emma's bed and set the brakes.

"Forgive me for being unsure," he replied, unfazed. "I'm a bit busy right now though, so if we could deal with this later, perhaps after I've saved your telepath from her own mind while dealing with the loss of my own not insubstantial powers and attempting to stave off a mental breakdown at the events have transpired over the past few months, that would be fantastic. I know patience isn't exactly your strong suit, but could you do that for me, Erik?"

Erik pulled back, stunned into silence once again. Charles gave him another hard look before turning his attention to Jean and Emma.

"Alright, Jean, take us in."

* * *

Dry grass crunched under their feet as Jean and Charles trekked over the yellowing field. The gray sky did nothing to liven up their surroundings. The diamond fortress in the distance was marred by the advancing weeds growing around it.

"I hadn't been expecting this."

Jean hadn't had anyone with whom she could share her first experience in Emma's mind. It had been…off-putting. Magneto certainly wouldn't have understood her sense of unrest. Even Scott and Ororo, her two closest friends, had a hard time comprehending how telepaths experienced the mind. She was glad Professor Xavier was with her now.

Charles heaved a regretful sigh. "Unfortunately, I can't say the same."

Jean returned her focus to the sparkling box just over another browning hill.

"So all we have to do is find a way to open the cage, right?" Jean asked as they continued walking. It was odd seeing the Professor on his feet again. She'd gotten used to his chair.

"I'm afraid it may not be quite that simple. The mind, when trapped, can do strange things to make up for the lack of stimulation."

He didn't elaborate more and they finished their walk with nothing but the sound of brittle grass breaking beneath their feet. There were no signs to indicate Emma was trying to escape when they made it to the crystal prison. Charles began walking around the cage eying it from head to foot. A hand ran over the wall following the path his eyes drew.

"Jean, you should know that if we're able to breach the cage, what we find inside may not be pleasant. Onslaught is fond of playing with people's fears and nothing good can come from trapping a telepath so violently within herself. As I said, the mind comes up with ways to stimulate itself. It's a safeguard against insanity, but if Onslaught had any part in that process, he wouldn't have allowed her mind's creation to be a comfort."

He paused and ran his finger down a crease before shaking his head and continuing.

"I wouldn't take you in with me if I had my own powers at my disposal. Unfortunately, that isn't an option. If telepathic intervention is needed, it's going to have to be you who provides it. That said, you should prepare yourself for a nightmare."

"I can handle it, Professor. It's just like one of our lessons."

"I'm sure you're very capable of handling it. I just wish this were a less hands-on option to teach this particular lesson."

His hand slid into a cleaved part of the prison near the ground. He stopped in his squatted position.

"Here we are. He always aims so high with his aspirations, he loses sight of what might be happening below. Literally in this case, it seems."

Jean crouched by his side. "Can you open it?"

Charles tugged. The wall gave a bit. "Yes." He turned to look her in the eye. "Are you ready?"

Jean gave a determined nod.

"Alright. Grab my shoulder if you would. I'd prefer not to risk getting separated once we open the door."

Her grip barely belied her nervousness. Charles turned back to the door, adjusted his hold, and pulled. The landscape roared to life.

When they opened their eyes, they were still crouched down. That was the only thing that remained constant. The pair stood slowly.

Jean had to take a few moments to collect herself until she was sure her voice wouldn't betray how shaken she was. "What is this place?"

"It's what was supposed to be," murmured Charles as he examined their new setting.

"What?"

"You're aware of the origins of the X-Men, how we first assembled to fight Sebastian Shaw and his Hellfire Club."

"Of course. You stopped him from starting a nuclear war to wipe out humanity."

"If he had succeeded, his plan was to rule over all mutantkind." Charles paused a beat. "This is what the world was supposed to be if Shaw had won."

Jean looked around in horror. "I know Emma isn't the best of people, but I can't imagine a telepath agreeing to create this."

The expression Charles took could only be described as pitying. "Do you remember our lessons about shielding and its importance? How it not only keeps us sane, but also keeps our minds our own?"

Jean nodded. "If we're too open, we can't tell the difference between what we believe and what the people around us believe."

"Shaw met Miss Frost when she was a teenager. She didn't have the advantages of instruction you've had or the practice shielding I had when she first encountered him. It wasn't until he put the helmet on and she was captured by the CIA and separated from him that she realized just how much of an impact his desires had on her view of the world." He gestured to their surroundings. "This is the world he envisioned as Emma sees it now with a free mind. Hindsight, as they say, is twenty-twenty"

Jean couldn't think of anything to say to that. Instead, she tried to gain her footing in Emma's nightmare. They were inside a massive room...a throne room...in what could possibly have been the White House. A man who must have been Sebastian Shaw sat at the center in an embellished chair. He wore Magneto's helmet...or maybe it was the other way around now that she thought about it. They'd never been clear about where the helmet had come from after Erik had put it on and stormed out all those years ago. A number of mutants loitered around the room, some she recognized, some she didn't. The walls were decorated with chains...chains that strung up bloodied and beaten humans...people who had survived and rebelled, her mind supplied somehow. Out the window, the sky flamed a stormy red-orange. The silhouettes of gnarled trees were the only signs of life. Jean pulled back as Sabretooth approached from the other side of the court. Because that's what it was. A court, like the days of medieval England.

"Don't worry. They can't see us," Charles murmured. "Not yet at least."

His eyes were glued to the middle of the space where Shaw was. She saw why immediately. Two figures sat straight-backed in slightly less embellished chairs on either side of Shaw. Around their necks were chains adorned for royalty...if royalty had need of chains that is. The chains were linked to the armrests of Shaw's chair. Both were dressed regally, clearly well kept and fed, but they were blank. Their unfocused stares centered on the floor ten feet in front of them with perfectly neutrality. Emma Frost and Charles Xavier, dressed up like dolls then draped in shackles. Shaw had made them look like some cross between co-rulers and slaves…or maybe pets. Even Jean, who had never met the man, could read exactly what point he was making. After all, who would challenge the man with the world's two most powerful telepaths literally chained to him? Enslaved, body and mind.

Charles was unreadable as he stared at his subjugated self. Jean turned away only to find herself looking at the beaten humans. Her hand had found its way over her mouth somewhere along the way.

"Her and any telepath's greatest nightmare," Charles said quietly. "Being enslaved and used to enslave in turn. Not even having enough free will left to know there's nothing you can do about it."

The doors were thrown open, breaking their horrified reverie. Charles, the real Charles, ignored it. Instead, his calculating gaze honed in on Emma. As he did so, Magneto swept into the room, cape billowing behind him. Everyone shot to attention and silenced as they gathered around to see whatever spectacle was about to occur. Shaw sat up and tugged both chains. The telepaths shifted their eyes to the court's new inhabitant but otherwise remained unmoved.

Magneto strode forward with purpose and knelt at Shaw's feet. Even knowing it wasn't real, it was startling to see Magneto so…subservient. He rose at Shaw's beckoning and began to speak. Jean couldn't make out what he said, though, because Charles was by her ear speaking over him.

"Can you move the chain around Emma's neck? Break it?"

"With telekinesis?"

"No, no. Remember, this all appears physical, but in truth it's mental. You'll have to channel your psionic energy and use it to break the link. You've done it before in our training sessions. This is no different."

Despite his reassurances, she took a moment to gather her thoughts and calm her anxious mind. She raised her hand slightly and focused on the chain. It swung ever so slightly. A few of the other mutants glanced in their direction then back to Erik and Shaw. She forced down her unease.

"It's difficult, but I think I should be able to break it."

"Excellent. We are going to get over to Miss Frost. I'm going to try to talk to her while you break the chain. Without the tether, she should be able to take over again."

"The other mutants…" Jean started with a wary glance around the room.

"Yes, I caught that. They may serve as some type of defense."

"Defense?" she most certainly didn't squeak.

"Let's just act quickly, shall we?" Charles gave her a bright smile in response to her appalled expression and began steering her towards the thrones. When they got there, he nodded to the chain. Jean took a deep breath, shook her hands out (a nervous habit of hers), and started evaluating the chain. The Professor had faith in her. He was counting on her to come through. She'd just have to make sure she did.

Meanwhile, Charles crouched down by Emma.

"Hello, Miss Frost. Despite our many meetings, I don't know that we've ever been properly introduced. My name is Charles Xavier."

He kept talking as Jean worked the chain. She only noticed the rabble when she couldn't hear Charles trying to coax Emma to respond anymore. They were shouting and about half of them had their attention on Charles and Jean rather than Shaw and Magneto. Charles sensed the shift at the same time as she did. He spared her a glance and a reassuring nod before going back to Emma. It was now or never. Jean focused on the chain and pulled. It shifted but didn't break. Charles was yelling over the crowd who now was fully focused on them and very obviously angry. She jumped when she noticed Shaw staring at her as well. Jean gave another furious tug. The crowd moved forward.

Charles was shouting in Emma's ear. "This is your mind! You're in control! You can stop all of this!"

Chaos roared around them. Shaw was on his feet, leering, about to take a step forward when Emma's eyes focused and looked straight at him. His grin faltered and he made to walk to them in earnest. The rest of the mutants in the room, Magneto included, were rioting and began pushing towards them as well.

"Jean!" Charles shouted above the noise.

"I'm trying, Professor!"

Just when the riot was upon them, the chain snapped. Emma stood and threw her arm out. The chain wrapped around Shaw's neck.

"You don't control me anymore," she said coldly. "My mind is my own."

Shaw fell. The rioters, however, didn't stop. Charles was next to Jean in a flash. They flinched as Sabretooth's claws rocketed towards them. Then everything stopped. When they opened their eyes, the court and all the mutants were gone replaced with gently rolling hills of green grass and the sound of crystal windchimes. The diamond cage behind them collapsed in a clinking cacophony and disappeared.

All three telepaths stood panting. A shaken Emma stared at the space between Charles and Jean as if she wasn't certain whether she was actually free or not. Charles straightened himself up and cleared his throat.

"Are you alright, Miss Frost?"

Emma's eyes flickered towards him. "I…I think so. Your alter ego isn't a pleasant person to be around."

Charles huffed out a laugh. "I have to agree with you there," he said before sobering. "How long had it been for you?"

"How long was it in the real world?"

"About two and a half, maybe three hours," Jean answered.

Emma let out an incredulous laugh. "Two and a half to three hours? It was..." she shook her head with a humorless smile, "months. Nowhere near a year, but definitely not three hours."

Charles' shoulder dropped measurably. "Months...I'm so sorry. If I could have..."

Emma's brow furrowed as he trailed off. Her hand lifted before hesitating then shooting up to grasp Charles' chin.

"Professor!" Jean stepped forward, but Charles gestured her back.

"It's okay, Jean," he said, somewhat garbled by Emma's hold. The blonde was staring at him. Jean could now say she knew what it looked like for someone to try to see the deepest part of someone else's soul. Confusion spread over Emma's face. She released him with wide eyes.

"What did he do to you?" she exhaled.

"Your face seems to indicate that you already know," he replied with a melancholy smile.

"But- how did you manage to get into my mind without telepathy?"

"I'm lucky to have a rather talented pupil who was able to help with that." He smiled proudly at Jean as Emma gave her a once over. Jean shot a nervous smile back. She apparently either met Emma's standards or wasn't of interest because the woman turned her attention back to Charles.

"Well…thank you. Being stuck in there much longer would have been…unpleasant."

"You're very welcome, Miss Frost. Now, as gorgeous as your mind is, I think it's time we returned. I can say from personal experience that three people in one mind is a bit of a crowd. Jean, if you would?"

Jean held out her hand. Charles took it and they were gone.

* * *

A short inhale marked Emma's return to consciousness while Charles and Jean slumped in exhaustion. Erik and Raven were on them in seconds.

"I think I'll take that rest you offered up earlier," Jean managed as Raven helped her sit back.

Charles waved off Erik, who had been waging an inner battle as to whether he should help Charles or stay where he was. "Yes, that was a bit more trying than I expected. I think it would be best for everyone if we dealt with the repercussions of Onslaught's actions after we've all rested."

"Do you need-"

"I'll be fine."

Erik pulled back. Charles blew out a breath and offered smile.

"Thank you though, Erik. We'll talk later. I'm sure you need a nap just as much as the rest of us."

Without further adieu, Charles was out the door. Jean padded after him and headed to her own room.

"I'll go make sure he's okay," Mystique said quietly with an apologetic smile at her leader. Erik nodded and forced himself to remain neutral. When she was gone, he took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Prioritize. Now he needed to evaluate his team. After that, he could figure out Charles.

"Are you alright, Emma?"

"I'll recover. He trapped me in a nightmare. It's…like nothing I've ever experienced. You're description of Onslaught from Cuba didn't do him justice. He's…formidable."

"He is. We'll need to hear what Charles remembers about the past seven months and what Onslaught is up to." Magneto found his gaze wandering the path Charles had taken out the door.

"He'll need to be rested for that," Emma said. "Facing those demons with an exhausted mind won't help anyone. It'll be traumatic enough as it is."

'"I know that," Erik snapped. Why did everyone assume he was completely oblivious to other people's needs? Besides, he was the one who had been trapped in unconsciousness for six months. If anyone knew what Charles was going through, it was him.

"But you don't."

Erik glared. He'd almost forgotten he wasn't wearing his helmet. She raised her hands in mock surrender. "I'm not going to force myself to stay in my own head after what I've just been through. I won't apologize for it. Yes, you know what it's like to be out of commission for a few months, but he was forced to watch Onslaught do whatever he so pleased. It's different."

"He's angry."

"Of course he is. If I'm not mistaken, his last interaction with you involved you ignoring him and trying to kill the people he's working very hard to save as he pleaded with you to stop. He has a right to be a little angry. But you should keep in mind who he is and who his anger might actually be directed at. He's angry with you, yes, but he's much angrier at himself."

"What do you know about him?" Erik growled. "And why are you being so sympathetic?"

"Forgive me. The man just saved my mind. I'm sure I'll get over it after a nap."

Erik sighed and released his now clinched fists. It all made sense, of course. He was just so…tired. It felt like he was stuck in one of Riptide's tornados. Just when he gained his footing after Onslaught, Charles regained consciousness and blew him away again. It wouldn't do any good to get angry right now, especially not Charles. Charles, who in spite of his apparent lack of telepathy managed to find a way into Emma's mind and free her from whatever hold Onslaught trapped her in. The man never ceased to amaze.

He laughed, a bit hysterically if the raised eyebrow Emma gave him was any indication.

"I'd prefer if you didn't lose your mind just yet. I don't know that I'm up for untangling that mess and Jean and your professor certainly aren't."

Magneto collected himself with another sigh. "I have every intention of keeping my mind intact and untouched by you. We all need to take a few hours to recover. After that we'll deal with what to do next."

Emma's eyes went distant for a moment. "The blue furry one says your old bedroom is taken, but there's one by Xavier's room that should be open. He's on his way up to check me over apparently, so feel free to see your way out."

"Fantastic," he said tonelessly as he headed to the door. He paused and turned back around. "Make sure to stay out of my head."

She smirked in reply.

Once he'd closed the door to the room Beast had specified, he dropped his mask. The day had been…well, to say it had been trying would be an understatement. There was too much to think about, too much that needed to be addressed, and none of it could be until Charles was recovered enough to talk to them about it. He moved to the window. Dawn was approaching, though not yet near enough for the sky to be aware of it. He moved to close the curtains when something caught his eye. Actually, it was the lack of something. The pile of metal they'd passed when they'd arrived was gone. Erik ran a hand over his face.

"What are you up to?" he asked, knowing the only two people who could possibly answer wouldn't.

The empty room remained stubbornly silent and the twinkling stars offered no reply.

* * *

Onslaught appeared with Azazel exactly on time, as always.

"Report?" a voice commanded from behind him.

Onslaught rotated on his heels. "The last of the metal has been delivered."

"Excellent. We should be up and running within a week. You have been so very helpful, Dr. Xavier," the man sneered.

Onslaught's eyes flickered to a second figure in the corner and back. He kept his face carefully blank. "I'm glad to be of service. Is there anything else you need, Colonel Stryker?"

"You'll know when I want something from you. Until then, take your devil and make sure the calibrations are correct. Wouldn't want any hitches in our final preparations, would we?"

"Certainly not."

As an oblivious William Stryker went back to his papers, Onslaught shot one more look to the corner, this time with a smirk and a small salute. Then Azazel grasped his shoulder and they were gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a massive argument with myself about how Charles would act when he first regained consciousness. Determined anger came out on top with a side of trying to distract himself from facing what happened.
> 
> Comic references:  
> Charles' telepathy - Onslaught took Charles' telepathy when he separated from him.  
> Names - The girl who helped Storm and Jean was Alison Blaire, aka Dazzler. The student who sensed something was off was Betsy Braddock, aka Psylocke. Kitty Pryde, aka Shadowcat, and Piotr Rasputin, aka Colossus, were the older students who managed the sleepover for the little ones.
> 
> I also may have pulled from Inception for a few of the mindscape elements (like the other people being a defense mechanism).


	7. The Sound of Silence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title comes from Simon & Garfunkel's "The Sound of Silence"
> 
> We interrupt this program for some unexpected emotional exploration and interaction.

The ceiling in Charles' room hadn't changed. He would know. He'd done nothing by stare at it since he'd woken from his post-saving Emma nap. If he hadn't been so exhausted, he doubted he would've slept at all. Not because he didn't need it, but because he was terrified he'd wake up and realize none of it had been real…that Onslaught was still occupying his body and mind.

This first time he'd woken with control of his body had been a whirlwind mess of emotions. The overwhelming relief at the absence of Onslaught. The panicked shift to disbelief at the absence of everyone else as well. He'd had little time to contemplate that, no, Onslaught hadn't been lying and his telepathy was, in fact, gone before his train of thought was derailed by metal digging into his throat. Then Jean was shouting and Erik's dulcet tones filled the room. Reality swept back to the forefront and with it the multitude of problems beyond his own.

He'd tamped everything down to deal with the most pressing problem. It was a temporary measure. Helping Emma had taken his mind off his own predicament right up until she revealed how long she had been trapped…how long Onslaught had kept her in that nightmare. The reality of Onslaught's actions slammed back into him full force. He'd only just been able to get back to his room and sprawl himself over his bed before everything he'd been trying to block was back with him. He'd pulled himself together enough to reassure Raven that he was okay. Urging her to get some rest didn't take too long with how worn he no doubt looked.

The worst part was that he'd have to tell everyone. The look on Erik's face assured him of it, but even beyond that, the other mutants needed to know everything they could about what they were about to face and Onslaught's current plan. He'd kept the part of him that was Onslaught well hidden. But now the most terrible parts of himself were about to be thrown out in the open for everyone to see. Once he'd seen a woman throw her dirty, cheating ex-boyfriend's (her words) stuff out on her lawn. This included all his underwear and personal belongings. He felt a bit like that. Except he wasn't a dirty, cheating ex-boyfriend and his underwear included a lot more murder and mayhem.

He needed to get his roiling mind back under control. He tried to focus on the short time since he'd awoken to find Erik, Raven, and Jean by his side. He'd been short with Erik, which wasn't entirely unfair given their last interaction and the hand Erik's actions had in Onslaught's release. Still, the man was a victim of Onslaught as well and it wasn't as if he could've anticipated Onslaught's reemergence. He'd have to apologize. Not because Erik didn't deserve at least some of his anger, but because that was who Charles was. And right now, with his telepathy gone, he was clinging to any features of his former self that he could as a child clings to a security blanket.

He didn't know how long he lay there dwelling over everything. It was well past dawn, but not so late that people would be up and about particularly after the events of the previous night. The sun had risen over the treetops, but only just. Out of habit, he tried to spread his mind and check on his students before he remembered he wasn't capable of it anymore. The pain of it was sharp and left an ache that he couldn't quite get a handle on, like a snakebite and the slow spread of venom that follows.

A tap on the door broke his focus. He hadn't been expecting anyone and he couldn't tell who was behind the door without his telepathy. He pushed himself from his sprawl to rest against the headboard and positioned his legs under a blanket. With a deep breath, he composed himself as best he could.

"Come in."

His visitor opened the door just wide enough to step in then closed it with a quiet click. Charles offered a small smile and gestured to the chair Raven had left positioned by the bed.

"Sit. I had thought I might be seeing you."

* * *

Erik woke unsure of how he'd actually gotten any sleep. His mind had been rolling over details and battle plans despite having no way to know if they would be effective until he heard what Charles had to say. Better to be prepared though. He'd come up with the skeletons of four potential strikes before he drifted off.

He threw back the curtain to reveal the sun had risen. It was later than he usually woke, but, then again, it had been a long night. In his contemplations before sleep, he'd also come up with a list of things that needed to be done. The first thing on the list was to talk to Charles. He needed to know where they stood, especially after the telepath ran so hot and cold with him last night. Well, lukewarm and icy would perhaps be a better description. Either way, he needed to speak with his friend.

Charles' door was still closed when he got to it. He hesitated. He hadn't considered that Charles might not be awake yet. His fist hovered a few inches from the wood, unsure of whether to knock, when he heard a muffled laugh and murmured conversation. His brow furrowed. Who else would be up and talking to Charles at this hour? Resolve returned and he knocked on the door. The muffled laughter calmed, followed by a short "Come in".

When he opened the door, he was greeted by a wholly unexpected sight.

"What are you doing here, Emma?"

* * *

When Emma Frost slid through his door, Charles couldn't say he was entirely surprised. That wasn't to say he wasn't surprised at all. It must have shown because Emma gave a haughty, close-mouthed smile as she moved to the chair Charles gestured towards.

"Dr. Xavier."

"Miss Frost. I assume you're feeling better."

"Much. Hell of a headache but nothing to complain about all things considered." She crossed her legs primly and set her linked fingers over one knee. "It's you I'm concerned about."

Charles plastered on a fake smile. "I don't know what you mean."

Emma tilted her head with a chiding look. "That may work on everyone else, honey, but not me. You can still shield with the best of 'em. That doesn't mean I can't see through you."

Charles' smile faltered. He averted his eyes to the cloud-splotched sky out the window. Emma's usually unreadable face loosened.

"What's it like being alone in your head?" she asked. Genuine curiosity gleamed in her eyes.

Charles kept his steadfast gaze out the window. "It's…difficult to describe. It's like…I had friends at university who would describe silence as deafening. They said they couldn't concentrate, so they kept music on in the background when they studied. I never understood it. It was too paradoxical to me. But now I think I know what they meant. It's a deafening silence." Charles drifted, then refocused and turned to meet Emma's inquisitive gaze. "I didn't realize how much my telepathy picked up until now. I suppose it was my background music. It's disorienting not to have it anymore."

Emma nodded distantly. "When I go diamond, it blocks telepathy both ways. I only do it for a few minutes at a time. It's too quiet. For me, it's like feeling claustrophobic in an empty symphony hall. I've always wondered if it was the same for others, but I never had another telepath to talk with about it before."

"Nor have I. It's not as if I could drop this on Jean. She's just a student."

Another chiding head tilt. "I can't imagine the power I sensed in her slipping your notice. She's far more than just a student. You know that."

"Of course. That is…something we are dealing with. I must admit, it's odd to be talking about this with you though. I wasn't expecting sympathy from the Brotherhood."

"You mean the enemy." Charles didn't protest the correction, only watched Emma and measured her reaction. Emma hummed and examined her nails. "Enemy is such a strong word. I believe what I believe and you believe what you believe, but at the end of it all, us telepaths need to stick together. Don't you agree?"

Charles huffed out a laugh. "Quite right, Miss Frost."

They continued talking about odds and ends of telepathy, then moved to growing up in high society, then the ins and outs of everyday life. Charles found himself getting pleasantly lost in the conversation. It felt more like talking to a long-absent friend than a high-ranking member of the Brotherhood. Inevitably, the conversation turned to another thing they shared…Erik.

"He's unbearable whenever he thinks you aren't safe, which is far more often than is actually true," she complained. "You're more capable of taking care of yourself than he is of taking care of you."

"I'm glad at least someone recognizes that," Charles grumbled. "Does he tell you to stay out of his head when he'd practically screaming at you?"

"Yes! When he doesn't have that damn helmet on!"

"I hate that blasted thing. It's like talking to a black hole."

"Not to mention how ridiculous it looks. At least it was sleek when it was silver."

Charles threw exasperated arms in the air. "Thank you! I knew I couldn't be the only one who thought that! And I can't believe you people let him walk around in a cape! It's hideous! Why does he even wear it?"

"He thinks it's intimidating."

"It's ghastly and over that top. That's what it is."

The pair paused then burst into laughter. A short knock on the door brought them up short. Charles glanced to Emma.

"It's him," she said quietly enough that no one would hear it through the door.

Charles sobered. "Come in."

Erik walked into the room and stopped short.

"What are you doing here, Emma?" His clear surprise and strangled question had Charles hiding a smile.

"I'm allowed to visit," she sniffed.

Erik looked between Charles and Emma a few times before settling on Charles. "I need to borrow her if you don't mind."

"Not at all." Charles folded his hands over the blanket, the picture of politeness. Emma sighed and got up.

"Before you go," Charles cut in as she reached the door, "could you contact Jean and ask her to bring the senior X-Men to meet with me?"

A sly expression spread on Emma's face. "Just Jean? I could just convey the message to all your little posse."

"Just Jean is fine."

"Don't trust me in the heads of the rest of your X-Men?" she teased lightly.

Charles volleyed a challenging smile of his own. "Not on your life."

Emma tossed her head back and laughed. "Good boy. Your little telepath got the message. They'll be up soon."

Erik's eyebrows were at his hairline by the time the two finished speaking. Charles' lips turned upwards in amusement before addressing the other man.

"Erik, when you finish speaking with Miss Frost would you mind assembling your team? I'd like everyone present when I give my briefing on Onslaught."

Erik pulled back a bit. "You want to do it now? You said something about having a mental breakdown a few hours ago."

"I'd prefer to get it over with sooner rather than later and time is a bit of an issue. I'll need to talk to my people first though. The kitchen is well stocked. You and your Brotherhood are welcome to it. Be back in here in, shall we say, half an hour?"

Erik hesitated. "I was hoping to talk to you. Alone. There are things we need to discuss."

"I agree. We can talk after the meeting, you have my word. I suspect it would help along our conversation to have the happenings of the past seven months out in the open anyway."

"Very well. After the briefing then," Erik agreed after another beat of silence.

Charles nodded and glanced expectantly at the door. When Erik showed no indication of leaving, Emma rolled her eyes and moved him into the hall. The first of Charles' X-Men were ambling towards the room. Emma maneuvered herself and her leader into the room she'd taken. Her touch reasserted the memory of the conversation Erik had walked in on.

"What the hell was that?" Erik growled.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know I had to go through you before holding a conversation with another human being. Annoyed that I hit it off with your other telepath?"

"That's not what I meant and you know it. What were you doing in there?"

"Distracting him."

"Why?"

"Why?" Emma let out a disbelieving laugh. "He's in pain!"

"He seemed recovered enough just now."

"Do you really not see it? In the past seven months, he's lost his body, done who know what while trapped by his alter ego, then traded the ability that's defined him since he was a child and no doubt gave him solace though the loss of his legs to get his body back. You have no idea what telepathy is like. It's always there. For it to be suddenly gone…I may be cold-hearted most of the time, but your professor is going through one of the few things I wouldn't wish upon any telepath. Someone needed to distract him so he wouldn't get lost in his own thoughts. We need him with his mind intact to defeat Onslaught. You should be thanking me."

Emma never lost her composure, but her eyes were hard as ever. Erik stared with a narrowed gaze for a moment longer. Emma took a breath.

"You need to talk to him."

"I intend to-"

"Not to talk about your battle plans."

Erik sighed then grit his teeth when he realized the feeling he was having. He was on the defensive. He hated being on the defensive.

"I intend to talk about far more than battle plans, Emma," he said stronger this time. "Do not assume to understand my every action. Remember your place. If you speak to me with such disregard in the future, there will be consequences."

"Oh, please, I'm not challenging you," the telepath scoffed with no signs of being affected by Magneto's turn. "I'm telling you what you already know but refuse to acknowledge. You're making my head hurt more. I'm going to accept Dr. Xavier's ever so generous invitation and try to find some coffee in the kitchen before we all get to be regaled by his stories. I've already informed the rest of our people what's happening. They're in the kitchen. I wouldn't be surprised if Riptide reinjured his wrist with how fast he got out of bed to get there. Join us there or pout in here about me making a new friend. I don't care."

Emma glided from the room. Erik dropped his head to his chest and ran a hand through his hair. He ran through his mental to-do list. Talk to Charles. Get information on Onslaught. Defeat Onslaught. It was an admittedly short list. He'd hoped to have the first thing checked off by now. That wasn't going to happen. Oh well. The second task would be completed soon enough, then the rest of the list could be tackled. His stomach grumbled. He sighed. Best not to take on the day without some food in his stomach. Charles' kitchen wasn't something to be missed anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now back to your previously scheduled plot.
> 
> I wanted to have a bit of reflection to show the impact all this was having on Charles before getting into the meat and potatoes of the past 6-7 months, which will be the next chapter. Hopefully you don't mind the break from serious plot to explore emotional state. I just felt like it needed to be established that Charles wouldn't necessarily be fluffy clouds and rainbows with everything that had happened. Plus, I wanted to establish that Emma can be a decent human being :) Also, it works for the comics, but Magneto's costume is a little ridiculous in the movies. Come on, admit it. Who looks at an outfit and says "Put a brightly colored cape on it. And you know what would make this helmet better? Magneta." Thus Charles and Emma's commentary.


	8. And while the king was looking down, the jester stole his thorny crown

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title comes from Don McLean's "American Pie"
> 
> Flashbacks are in italics

Thirty minutes ticked by and Erik found his Brotherhood filing through Charles' door. Aside from remaining tucked into bed, the telepath appeared every bit a teacher ready to enlighten his pupils. He was propped up on the headboard with his hands folded in his lap as he would sit at a desk at the head of a classroom. If only he'd brought an apple, Erik thought dimly, maybe he'd regain the teacher's favor.

Hank and Alex stood sentinel on either side of Charles' headboard. Jean and Scott sat on the floor with their hands linked. Erik didn't know for sure when the pair had officially gotten together, but this was obviously the most perilous situation either had been in since then. It showed in the way their shoulders were pressed together, trying to stay as close as possible. Ororo, for once, was away from the pair perched on the windowsill. Warren, Bobby, and Sean hovered off to the side eying the Brotherhood as they come in. The members of the Brotherhood took up positions around the bed with the exception of Emma. She leaned against the wall near Sean, apparently for the sole purpose of making him uncomfortable. Charles shot a stifled smile her way. Emma winked in return. Erik chose studiously to ignore their interaction.

The room quieted of its own accord.

"Now that we're all here, let's get started."

Of course Charles Xavier could not only remain prim and proper, but also maintain authority while recovering in bed. Of course.

"Let's get straight to the point, shall we? Onslaught is working with William Stryker to create a version of Cerebro he can use to control the collective minds of world's population."

The reactions were varied. A few jaws dropped. Someone choked off a gasp. Sean choked in earnest. Someone else barked a panicked laugh. Hank and Alex were giving Charles twin looks of incredulity. Erik himself had kept his jaw in its proper place, thank you very much, but he was sure his eyes were about as wide as the saucer Charles' half-filled teacup sat on.

After recovering from his coughing fit, Sean raised his hand halfway, then put it down and pursed his lips in thought. "Maybe you could take it a little slower?"

"Ah, yes, right." Charles smoothed an errant wrinkle in his blanket before very purposefully knotting his hands together. "I apologize. It's been a while since I've had a conversation with anyone besides Onslaught and he's rather straightforward about things. Perhaps I should start from the beginning."

"Perhaps, yes," Erik said in what he's sure would've been a fond tone if William Stryker's name hadn't been brought into the equation.

"Very well. As you all know, all this began seven months ago during our last meeting in New York."

_Charles watched Erik's resolve snap into place as the mutant stepped into the machine. He'd never stood a chance, had he? Erik's - Magneto's - mind was made up months ago and nothing Charles could say would change it. Erik was going to become the man Shaw had worked so hard to make him. He'd kill half of New York and make the war between the humans and mutants unavoidable. Erik Lehnsherr would be forever replaced with Magneto, who wouldn't rest until mutants reigned supreme or he was dead. Everything Charles was trying to do was going up in flames and there was nothing he could do to stop it. Something broke inside him at the thought._

_And suddenly there was something he could do about it._

_Everything was fuzzy, yet somehow brighter. The rush the followed the snapping sensation was accompanied by a yell. Erik's countenance turned from confidence to confusion through the veil that had settled over Charles' vision. With barely a glance at the helmet that was keeping him from his goal, it went flying across the room. Just like that, Erik's mind was open to him. He wanted to laugh at how easy it had been. He might have, but then he was screaming and so was Erik. The machine still wasn't stopping though so Charles did the only thing he could think of._

_He pulled._

_He was floating. Far away, his head was pounding, but that didn't matter because he could sense everything from the fight outside to the couple getting engaged across the city to…he couldn't even tell how far it went. Closest though were Erik, who seemed unaware but floating with him, and the presence that had become his constant companion._

_The flash of a triumphant smile._

_Abstract pressure, like hands grabbing his shoulders._

_Then he was off balance, being turned…switching places with someone._

_Too late, he realized what was happening._

_"Don't worry, Charles. I'll take care of everything."_

_No, no, no, no, this couldn't happen! Not again! He had to do something! Charles swiped out, grazing Erik's consciousness as it fled back to the place from which it had come, then everything went black._

"Onslaught was able to put blocks on Erik's mind to keep him from waking and getting in the way. He spent the week after reinforcing the walls holding me. That was something he never had time to do before Cuba. I fought, but with the residual of Erik that had taken root in him and the time he had to himself after I blacked out, I didn't stand a chance.

"When Raven called, he took the opportunity to fortify the walls in Erik's mind and block any memories of what happened in case he managed to regain consciousness. I couldn't stop him, but I had enough grip left to crack the foundations a bit."

"The dream," Erik breathed.

Charles nodded. "Between the contact when I stopped you and Onslaught's rifling around the following week, I was able to leave whispers. I could only hope that they'd take form and that the cracks were big enough that a trigger might collapse them."

"That was bit of a gamble," Magneto stated.

"It was all I had," Charles replied with a half shrug. "He took everything else."

Erik didn't like the fledgling vacancy worming its way onto his friend's face. Off to the side, Emma shot him a warning gaze. Right. Distraction. "What did he do next? What's his goal?"

The telepath snapped out of the beginnings of whatever that had been and shook his head as if to clear it. "The same as it was last time. He wants to bend the minds of the world to his command only this time he intends to do it using Cerebro instead of a psionic web. It's a far more efficient means of achieving his goal. All he'll have to do is connect to Cerebro once or twice a day and check up on everything. He can single-handedly control every single person on the planet and kill anyone who gets in the way without leaving the comfort of the machine."

"Not that I'm complaining, but we have Cerebro," Alex cut in. "Why hasn't he taken over the world yet?"

"He would've had to make significant expansions and renovations to it. We only use it to brush the minds of others like us, not to fully take hold and not on the scale he needs it for. It would have needed a number of adjustments. We probably would've had to rebuild the whole thing."

"Again, not to complain, but didn't Hank design the thing in the first place?" Warren asked. "Why didn't Onslaught just make him make the readjustments? If as powerful as everyone says, he could've convinced all of us that adjusting or rebuilding Cerebro was perfectly acceptable."

McCoy shifted by the bed and shot an uncomfortable glance at his mentor. The telepath's face ticked, but remained neutral outside of that. Objectivity, Erik realized, was how Charles was maintaining his collected stance.

"He considered it," began Charles. He spoke to everyone, but was especially attentive to Hank. "But you would've realized something was going on. Onslaught was doing so much already that he didn't feel like keeping an eye on you and erasing your memory every time you figured it out again. He may be insane, but he's still very respectful of your mind, Hank. He didn't know how much damage it would cause to have to erase it as many times as he undoubtedly would have."

"You can't blame yourself for what Onslaught considered doing. You would never risk my mind. I know that, Professor," Hank said with confidence.

"Thank you, Hank, your faith in me means more than you know."

That much was obvious from the infinitesimal release of tension in Charles' shoulders. Again, Erik was reminded of the present situation. Charles was revealing the part of himself he was most ashamed of to the people he obviously held in high regard…people who looked to him as a leader. Erik couldn't imagine standing in front of his Brotherhood and doing the same without killing anyone afterwards.

"As I was saying," Charles continued, "he would've had to mind-wipe the entirely of the school for them not to question what was happening with Cerebro. He would've had to do the same to Hank multiple times, plus manipulate his mind into creating what he needed. Between the memory gaps and your mind trying to cope with whatever manipulations he made to get you to work with him in the first place, it would have driven you mad. I don't like to think what would've happened had he not stumbled upon some schematics indicating Stryker had plans of his own."

"How exactly did you come upon these plans?" Riptide asked.

Charles inhaled as if to explain, then stopped when his eyes flashed to a few of his team members. "I don't think it matters-"

"It does," Janos pressed on. "We need to know everything. The most inconsequential detail could tell us something important!"

"This won't!"

"Riptide," Erik warned.

"No!" the other mutant replied. He was pulling messily at the bandage splinting his wrist though he showed no hint that he was aware he was doing it. "He can't pick and choose what to reveal! Not after what we all went through yesterday! I don't care how bad it might make you look in front of your little students-"

"He destroyed a lab where they were testing on mutants!" Charles' yell matched Janos' in volume. The two watched each other both heaving breaths until Charles closed his eyes and moved them to the unoccupied space to his right. "He found the location in Erik's mind. Decided he wanted to stretch his legs a bit. He'd taken Azazel's mind as soon as Azazel had been sent to fetch him, so he had the means of transport. He went to the facility and he…he killed everyone. Then he took what he thought was pertinent. He found the plans there."

"Where was the facility?" Mystique asked.

"Colorado Springs."

"I know that one. We hit it not too long after we figured Magneto would be out of commission indefinitely. It was abandoned. We found nothing."

"Not abandoned. And you found nothing because that's how Onslaught wanted it to be found."

"You took a facility and killed those experimenting on your own kind. I don't see why you're so upset by it. It's exactly what we do," Riptide sneered. "I'm sure it must have been very trying for you to lower yourself to our level, but killing those who seek to harm us isn't something to lament."

Ah, there was the anger Erik so rarely saw in Charles. He'd begun to think maybe Onslaught had taken it with him as well.

"You don't know what he did to them. It was worse than the worst tortures you could imagine. He ripped them apart body and mind then had Azazel teleport their bodies where no one will find them. He left it perfectly abandoned as his own Lost Colony. Do you know what he was thinking of as he used my body and Azazel to rip 115 people to pieces? Rachmaninoff's 2nd Piano Concerto. As if he was conducting a masterpiece. Do not linger under the delusion that the things Onslaught does are in any way comparable to the deeds of your Brotherhood. In comparison to him, your attacks have been the fingerpaintings of children seeking attention from their parent."

Judging by the pallor of the other mutant had taken on, he understood the point Charles was trying to get across. In fact, everyone seemed to have paled somewhat at Charles' outburst. For his part, the telepath kept his head high. With pursed lips, he gave Erik a silent reproach. It would seem he was going to hold Erik responsible for whatever his Brotherhood decided to say. Erik could almost hear the accented "Are you happy now?" in his head

Erik cleared his throat. "The plans. What were Stryker's plans that he was so interested in?"

"They were blueprints. Hank's original ones for Cerebro. It sparked Onslaught's curiosity, so he found himself a spy."

_Andrew Jones sat at his desk skimming through the most recent reports. He was as uneasy as ever about what he was taking part in…what Stryker was doing. His sister had called last night raving about the newest conspiracy her group of friends was on. Mind control, something about the water supply, secret mutant testing. The usual. Still, with the newest adjustments he'd been asked to make to the blueprints, he couldn't help but wonder if there was a seed of truth in her ramblings. The machine was supposed to be used to amplify something, but the newest part was suspiciously human-shaped down to restraints Stryker had demanded. Something bigger was going on here. He had no idea how to find out what and, even if he did, who could he tell?_

_The ringing of his phone startled him from his thoughts._

_"Hello?"_

_"Dr. Jones."_

_"Yes, who is this?"_

_"Someone who may be able to help you with your present predicament."_

_Jones felt his stomach drop a few inches. "I- I don't know what you mean."_

_The other man hummed. "I think you do. You have questions you want answered. I do as well. I can offer you guidance, point you in the right direction, and maybe even put your work to good use."_

_"I don't- Who are you?"_

_"Who am I doesn't matter. What I can do does. There's far more going on than you realize. Don't you want to find out what it is?"_

_Jones remained silent._

_"Why don't we meet to discuss this further? Let's say the bottom level of the parking garage of the building across from yours. 11 pm tonight. Perhaps we can come to an arrangement that will benefit both of us."_

_Clandestine meetings in parking garages in the dark of the night…it couldn't possibly end well. Jones glanced down at the blueprints again, at the restraints obviously meant to hold a test subject down. One meeting. He could judge whether the man was insane or if it was a legitimate offer._

_"Fine. 11 pm tonight."_

_"Excellent. I'll see you then, Dr. Jones."_

_There was nothing but a dial tone. The setting sun cast a red glow over his desk as he set the phone back down. Outside, a man in a wheelchair moved away from a payphone to the safety of a nearby alley and disappeared with another man in a puff of smoke._

"Dr. Jones was very useful. Unfortunately for him, Stryker's plans eventually involved directly contacting me."

"The name sounds familiar," Mystique noted distantly, lost in thought.

"You should. I'd be disappointed in your investigative skills if you didn't note the dead government scientist found by the Arcadia."

"Oh."

A wan smile. "Yes. Anyway, Jones gave Onslaught more than enough information. Stryker was making a giant Cerebro, one that would reach clear across the globe with the right telepath at the helm. We'd had far too many antagonistic encounters for him to want anyone but me in that machine."

"Why would Stryker want his own Cerebro?" Storm asked.

"And how did he expect to get you to operate it?" Alex questioned. "Of all the telepaths in the world, you're the last one who would ever agree to run a machine for him. He didn't know about Onslaught, did he?"

"He didn't. His means of gaining my cooperation were far more vile. Almost as vile as his endgame."

_"Dr. Xavier. I'm glad you agreed to meet with me again."_

_"You didn't expect me to pass up the opportunity to argue politics, did you?"_

_"Never. That was the point."_

_For once, Onslaught felt just barest sense of apprehension. The two settled, Stryker behind his desk, Onslaught in his wheelchair across from him. Everything about the colonel screamed anticipation. Just as Onslaught was about to open his mouth, another presence stampeded into his mind. He gasped and grasped his temples in closed fists. Someone was trying to take over. Whoever it was was very adept at the task. He wasn't winning, but best not to let the other man know that. Panting, Onslaught raised his gaze to a leering Stryker._

_"What are you doing?"_

_"I need your cooperation. You see, I'm building another version of that little machine you used to find your compatriots and I need someone to help me fetch supplies and eventually power it. I thought, 'Who better than Charles Xavier!' With all your money plus that school of freaks, which I know all about by the way, you were the perfect candidate! All the better that I get to defeat you in every way possible while I do it."_

_Onslaught cried out as the presence lanced into his mind again._

_"How- how are you doing this?"_

_Stryker gestured to what was seemingly a closet. The door opened and a wheelchair rolled out. Sitting in the wheelchair was a teenage boy, fifteen or sixteen probably. His cloudy eyes were focused upon Onslaught. Heterochromia, the scientist in him noted vaguely. Stryker stood up and walked over to the boy. The hand that settled on his shoulder was more controlling than affectionate._

_"I'd like you to meet my son, Jason. He, as it turns out, is a rather gifted telepath. I'm told he's very strong. Perhaps, Dr. Xavier, even stronger than you."_

_Jason flinched back and gasped. His weakness disappeared as his eyes narrowed. Onslaught coughed a choked off gurgle before slumping fully and letting his body go lax. Jason remained tense._

_"Have you got him, son?"_

_"He's ours to command."_

_Stryker leaned back over his desk._

_"Sit up."_

_Onslaught sat straight up with a blank expression. Laughter filled the room as Stryker waltzed around the desk and circled his new toy then leaned down from behind to speak into his ear._

_"You are going to help me build this machine. Then you are going to spread your mind, and kill every single mutant on the face of the planet."_

_From his position behind Onslaught, he didn't see the mutant's eyes slip up to meet Jason's. Jason jerked back in his chair before settling again. Stryker glanced to his son._

_"Everything okay?"_

_"Yes. He tried to fight back, but I stopped him. Don't worry, Father, that was the last of his strength. It won't happen again. I have full control of him now._

"But he didn't." Charles took a sip of probably cold tea and settled it back on its saucer. "It was quite the fight. The boy is strong, but he was anticipating me, not Onslaught. Even without Onslaught, Stryker vastly overestimated his son's abilities in comparison to mine. Such arrogance."

The sudden malice in Charles' tone reminded Erik exactly where Onslaught came from. He stifled a shudder.

Charles continued, "From the moment Onslaught put on his mask of docility, he's been controlling Jason Stryker. The boy is terrified of him, but can report nothing aside from what Onslaught allows him to. He's feeding them information and blueprints to make it exactly as his designs require. The entire Cerebro operation is effectively Onslaught's hands."

Silence settled in the room as Charles waited for the information to be absorbed. He had an uncanny ability for knowing when people needed a moment. His pauses coincided with the teetering sensation of information overload. Apparently, it was a talent honed through telepathy yet retained without it.

"So Stryker wants Cerebro so he can kill all the mutants?" Bobby clarified.

"How? Can Cerebro do that?" Angel followed up.

Surprisingly, Emma beat both Charles and Hank to the answer. "All it would take is concentration. A lot of concentration, but with a powerful enough telepath in an amplifying machine like that? Focus hard enough on who you're trying to find and you'd have instant genocide."

"Well isn't that just fantastic," Sean said. "We've got Stryker and Onslaught with a machine that can control and/or kill the planet."

"Don't forget the apparently super telepathic son Stryker managed to keep hidden away," Warren contributed.

"Right, that too."

Storm shook her head in disgust. "How could a man enslave his own son like that?"

"He's not so much enslaved him as built such a strong level of self-loathing that the boy is desperate to win his father's approval. Jason hates what he is so completely that he is compliant with his father's desires to kill us all. All but him, of course. How else would his father be able to control the higher ups in government then?"

"Where are we up to in the timeline?" Magneto interrupted.

"My conception of time was a bit faulty, but I'd estimate it to be about four months after New York. Early fall."

"So we have a ways to go yet."

"Actually, the weeks that followed were relatively uneventful. Onslaught made sure all went according to schedule. Stryker thought Onslaught was me and that I was his to command. It was quiet." Charles moved his eyes to focus on Erik. "Until you woke up, that is."

_Onslaught cursed when the phone rang. He was almost finished with grading papers. Well, glancing at papers and scribbling the occasional mark. It was such a mundane task. How Charles put up with it he would never understand. There were so many things his time could be better spent doing, but appearances had to be kept up. He'd already had to adjust quite a few of the X-Men's minds after they noticed he was acting strangely. It was more effort to monitor and modify the inhabitants of the school than to simply meet their expectations. Tossing the pen to the side, he picked up the phone._

_"Hello?"_

_"Charles."_

_After Mystique's call ended, Onslaught's mind went into overdrive. So Magneto had overcome his walls. No doubt with some help from Charles. There had been annoyingly little he could do to prevent the damage his other half had done to his work. This put a dent in his plans. He heaved a put-upon sigh._

_"Difficult, isn't it? Living a double life, that is."_

_The ever so slight shift in the ambiance of the room told Onslaught he'd moved from reality to Charles' prison. Sure enough, his doppelganger sat curled in an armchair with one of his university genetics texts. The shackle around his ankle clanked as he stood._

_"You should update your collection," Onslaught mocked with a nod to the book._

_"Read a new journal and I'll be able to. You seem tense."_

_"Magneto has woken. "Oh, get that grin off your face," the entity continued at Charles' gleaming smile. "He hasn't revealed my presence, so I doubt he's broken down my walls completely."_

_"He will though."_

_"Yes, he will. So bothersome. Things were going so well."_

_"I'm so sorry your meticulous schedule has had a wrench thrown in it. How terrible for you."_

_"Careful, Charles. I've been generous allowing you all your books and some semblance of movement. I'd hate to have to put you in time out." With the snap of his fingers, Onslaught brightened. "All I have to do is move the schedule up."_

_"What does that mean?"_

_"You'll find out soon enough. Thank you, darling. You always get my mind working."_

"I had no idea what he was up to. Early on, I'd been able to break through and listen to what was going on. He didn't have the practice shielding against an imprisoned part of his mind like I did. He adapted far quicker than I'd hoped though. Towards the end, he was much better at it. I barely caught what he did to Nate Grey-"

"Is he okay?" Alex interrupted. "It's just that he seemed like a cool guy and I'd hate to have left him if…"

"He's fine. Onslaught knocked him unconscious and took his memories of us. He just needed to master his ability…to be able to project himself into a solid body and work independent of me. Of course I didn't realize this until just before you lot arrived."

_Charles stood as Onslaught appeared mid-stride and went straight to standing cabinet. Throwing open the doors, he began to rummage around and throw things in a bag._

_"What are you doing?"_

_When Charles tried to approach the entity, Onslaught threw his hand back without even bothering to turn his head. Charles stumbled back a few steps. He huffed and crossed his arms over his chest._

_"Erik's figured it out, hasn't he? That's why you're frightened."_

_"Frightened?" Onslaught laughed as he zipped the bag. It disappeared with a wave of his hand. Charles blinked, feeling suddenly bereft and not knowing why. Onslaught continued, "I'm not frightened. I'm prepared. If he watched the interview I gave, which I have no doubt he did, he at the very least knows something is wrong. He might not come yet, but better safe than sorry."_

_Charles clinched his fists as he felt the sensation of rope in his hands and objects being strategically positioned. Onslaught had gotten good at conversing with Charles while moving in the real world. Quite the multi-tasker. The seed of apprehension in Charles' chest sprouted to full bloom. He narrowed his eyes, trying to put together everything that Onslaught had done since the news of Erik's awakening._

_"Why did you target Nate Grey?"_

_"Think about it, Charles. Why would I seek out a boy who can split part of his mind into a projection?"_

_Oh._

_Oh no._

_"You really have all the cards, don't you?" Charles said, eyes wide but unblinking in challenge._

_Onslaught patted his cheek with a patronizing smile. "You should expect nothing less. I am you, after all."_

_"Not anymore."_

_"True, but you're the foundation and we both know the foundation is the most important part. Now, I'm afraid this is where we part ways. I have a world to fix."_

_No. This could not happen. "You…I'll find a way to destroy you. If it's the last thing I do. I won't let you use the world as a toy."_

_"How will you do that," Onslaught began with mock sympathy, "without your vaunted mental powers?"_

_Charles fell back a step. "Wha- What do you mean?"_

_"You're bright, Charles. You'll figure it out."_

_It took a moment for the full recognition of the implication to strike. The feeling he'd had since the Onslaught had waved the bag away. "You can't do that," he said hardly more than a whisper._

_"I can. I have, in fact. We've had a good run, you and I. Now, I'll need you out of my hair for a while. Do me a favor and go to sleep"_

_An overwhelming sense of lethargy swept over Charles. He winced in concentration and stumbled back a few steps. Onslaught was using his own telepathy against him. He was completely unprepared, but put all his energy into resisting the command._

_"Don't fight it, Charles. You know you won't win. Now go. To. Sleep."_

_The force of the words echoed in the confines of Charles' mind. His resistance crumbled. The last thing he saw before giving in to the command was Onslaught's smiling face._

"The next time I woke, Onslaught was gone, my telepathy was non-functional, and Erik was inexplicably trying to choke me with a band of metal I suspect he ruined one of my chairs for."

A few of the mutants shot glares at Magneto.

"I thought he was still Onslaught. I'm not sorry," Magneto grumbled.

"So your telepathy is completely gone?" Scott clarified.

"Yes. I'm afraid I won't be much help from here on out."

"Nonsense." Emma's contribution to the conversation, once again, startled the other occupants of the room. Charles gave her his patented 'Please explain further' look. She obliged with an eye roll. "You can still shield far better than the average person. Probably more than the average telepath judging by the power you kept locked away in your head. That particular skill unfortunately isn't part of the telepathy package. It's developed on its own as a result. He couldn't take that from you if he tried. We'll need anyone who can shield if we're going to stop your not-better half.

"That's true," Hank noted. "Aside from Magneto with his helmet, the only mutants who realistically have a chance to fight without risk of falling under Onslaught's control are telepaths who are strong enough to shield against him. Emma, Jean, and Charles."

"No pressure," Sean mumbled.

"Is that true?" Erik asked, ignoring Sean to focus on Charles.

"I- suppose so."

"Now isn't the time to be modest, Dr. Xavier," chided Emma. "I can't breach those shields of yours. Not even a little. I've tried. If anything good came from having to hold Onslaught back for so long, it's that you have shields stronger than the Great Wall of China. Now that Jean and I know what to expect from him, I think we can both hold our own if we need to. Perhaps with a bit more practice….how long did you say we had until Stryker is finished?"

"With the metal Onslaught delivered, he'll be done within a week."

Emma hummed in disapproval. "We'll practice quickly, then."

"There's one thing I still don't understand," Angel noted.

"Just one?" Sean asked in mock sincerity.

Angel glared back at him. "The big pile of metal that was outside when we got here. Why was Onslaught collecting it for Stryker?"

"That was the last of the materials for Cerebro. Stryker worked very hard to procure metals that had very little in the way of magnetic properties. If would be impossible to make the machine without magnetic materials entirely since the interaction of magnetism and psionic waves are part of why it works, but he's achieved the same effect with as little magnetic metal as possible."

"Why?" Erik asked.

"I should think it would be obvious. He's scared of you. He doesn't want you to be able to destroy his machine. Unaware as he was about your lack of consciousness, he wanted a failsafe in case the Brotherhood found out about his plans."

"He doesn't think the rest of us could destroy his little machine?" Mystique asked, offended.

"Not like Erik could. Anyone else would not only have to be inside the building, but would have to go through a great deal of effort before enough damage could be done to properly stop anything. Erik could close his fist two miles away and the whole thing would be shot. But without magnetic metal and with a powerful telepath at his side to stop anyone else who tried to make an attempt, what can anyone do to stop him?"

"Fantastic," Alex said after a beat of silence and a glance down to Charles. "I think it's time for a break. It's almost lunchtime now and Alison and Piotr will kill us for leaving them in charge of the kids for this long."

Erik looked as if he was about to argue, but stopped short at the relief on Charles' face.

"I think that's a good idea," Charles affirmed. "Allow things to settle. We'll need a plan of attack sooner rather than later and the mind often works better when not focusing directly on a problem. I believe Erik and I need to speak alone as well."

A short nod from Erik affirmed it. Everyone began migrating towards the door.

"Erik, if you wouldn't mind, could you fetch some sandwiches and perhaps some more tea? No need to starve during our discussion."

After a slight hesitation, the magnokinetic replied, "Of course. "I'll be back."

The sudden quiet that filled the room was startling. With everyone gone, Charles found his attention drifting to the windows once more. The clouds had obscured the sun and left the sky cobalt blue. The dark green of the trees contrasted nicely against it as they swayed in the wind. Unable to see her mind, Charles wasn't sure if there was a storm coming in or if Ororo was still ill at ease. He suspected the former. Ororo exercised admirable control over her power nowadays.

He'd said what needed to be said, but he'd left out so much more. There had been so much needless death, so many minds warped. He'd also downplayed just how much interaction he'd had with Onslaught. It had actually been quite a bit. The mind was Onslaught's home turf. It was where he played best. Any time he got bored or was feeling uncharacteristically charitable, he'd waltz back into the confines of Charles' prison for a game of chess. Or maybe it was just the witty banter. Unbidden, one such conversation jumped to the forefront.

_"When you're defeated, and you will be, you won't ever escape again."_

_"You won't be able to defeat me, little Charles."_

_"I never said I would."_

_"Oh," Onslaught quipped with amused realization, "you think your friends are going to stop me?"_

_Charles raised his chin in defiance._

_With a chuckle, Onslaught spoke again. "You realize that in order to stop me, they'll have to kill us both."_

_"I do."_

_"Do you really think they can kill us?"_

_"Erik can."_

_Onslaught laughed outright at that. "You overestimate his corruption. He has become ruthless, I'll admit, but the way he rushed to your side in India? No. He isn't ready to watch you die much less do the deed himself."_

_"That was years ago."_

_"Not that many years ago. Plus, I don't think you're quite prepared for that level of martyrdom. Your school children aren't ready to face Magneto and his Brotherhood without your guidance just yet. No, if they want to defeat me, it's going to involve containing me in your pretty little head again."_

_"We'll see."_

Charles brushed the cobweb of memory away. Erik would be up soon, no doubt having pushed his way to the front of whatever line had formed in the kitchen to get back up as fast as he could. All the conversations they'd had over the years had been obscured by strategic omissions and clever wordplay. Now, it seemed, they'd be having their first honest conversation in years.

A tap on the door indicated that Charles' inclination was right. Erik pushed his way in with a well-stocked tray and an open. Ready or not, Charles thought, here we go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Movie references: Here's where a lot of the X2 stuff comes in. Stryker's plan to use Cerebro and Jason's role were all based on the movie plot. Jason as a character is pretty different, but that he's around and doing stuff for his dad is movie-based.
> 
> Comic references: A few lines where Onslaught is talking to Charles right before he splits off were taken straight from The Uncanny X-Men #336 from Sept. 1996 ("How will you do that without your vaunted mental powers?" "Wha- What do you mean?" "You're bright, Charles. You'll figure it out.").
> 
> Cultural/historical: The Lost Colony was the colony on Roanoke Island. A group left the colony to ask for help from England. When they came back 3 years later, they found the colony abandoned with nothing but the word "Croatoan" carved into a post. Not so coincidentally, the number of people who disappeared from Roanoke was also 115. Also, Rachmaninoff's 2nd Piano Concerto. Listen to it. It's good.


	9. I know it's hard to remember the people we used to be

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from Maroon 5's "Payphone"…that's right, I used the deep, philosophical crooning of Maroon 5 for the title.

Erik set the tray down on the table beside Charles' bed. The other man had been staring out the window when he'd entered. Erik wondered briefly what had Charles so pensive…or rather which of the many options Charles had decided to be pensive about first.

Charles' attention had turned from the window to the tea and sandwiches, only briefly settling on Erik along the way. Silence pervaded the room with the exception of the splashing of tea upon teacup. The cup clinked as it was picked up. At some point, the line separating patient silence from awkward silence had been crossed. They were twiddling their thumbs, each one waiting for the other to make the first move. Erik met Charles' expectant gaze before picking up a sandwich. Charles picked up one of his own, remaining stubbornly silent. A sigh was dragged out of Erik.

"Fine, I'll start."

It was, in fact, possible to chew a sandwich triumphantly judging by Charles' expression. It was exactly something he would expect from his previous interactions with Charles. Posturing for power, never knowing how serious the other was, always trying to keep on top of things with a sarcastic comment or biting remark…all things that they couldn't fall victim to right now. They needed to get everything out in the open. Erik needed Charles to be honest.

"Are you okay? Really?"

The triumph was drowned in a wave of false neutrality. "I'm fine."

That answer had come far too fast.

"You're not."

The neutrality ebbed only to be replaced with frustration. "What do you want me to say? I've spent seven months imprisoned within my mind and lost my ability along the way."

"We'll get your telepathy back."

"And if we can't? My question from last night still stands. Where do I fall in your manifesto as a former mutant? Will you kill me as easily as the other humans you deem unworthy to share the world with?"

There was no bite behind the words, but Erik cringed and fell silent. Surely, Charles couldn't truly feel that way. He had to know how much he valued their friendship despite their differences. It was an affront not only to his ideas, but to the friendship he thought he had with the man. No. Something else was in play here. The time had come to see how Charles really felt about the events that had transpired.

"You're angry with me."

"Yes, I'm angry," came the reply. It was calm, but had a caustic edge to it Erik couldn't miss. "If you had listened to me, we wouldn't be in this mess. If you had taken 5 minutes to hear me out, you might have been able to see reason and not continue with your attempted murder of who knows how many innocent individuals. If you hadn't been so stubborn, perhaps I could have maintained the walls I'd fortified for six years. But instead, you insisted on going ahead with your insane plan without so much as consulting a knowledgeable geneticist about how it might go wrong. Yes, Erik, it's safe to assume I'm a bit angry with you."

Charles concluded what must have been the composed tirade Erik had ever witnessed with a hard look. Erik fought to keep his face imploring. His attempt was successful for once. After a few seconds of staring at one another, Charles deflated.

"But I'm angrier at myself."

Exactly like Emma had said. Exactly what Erik had been afraid of.

Charles continued, oblivious to Erik's train of thought. "How could I let all that happen? He's part of my mind. Why couldn't I stop him?" he finished, halfway between angry and beseeching.

"I was under the impression that you didn't have much choice in the matter."

"I fought back but…it wasn't working. I grew complacent. Waiting for an opportunity while he killed and maimed and enslaved…I should've done something."

"You couldn't have. He's stronger now. That much was obvious last night. Sometimes we have to wait for an opportunity to act. Sometimes that opportunity doesn't come. You're rid of him now, either way. I get the idea that he's the worst of both of us. Every parent's nightmare."

Charles snorted. "They grow up so fast."

The two shared in companionable amusement before Charles sobered.

"Truly, Erik, I'm sorry for what happened. What I did to your mind…there's no excuse."

"I…" Erik began. He'd had things he'd meant to say here. Reassuring things that he was proud to have come up with at all. With the opportunity in front of him, though, he found he couldn't expect Charles to be honest and not be honest in return. "I won't say it's okay."

A nod of understanding. "You have every right to be angry with me, just as I have every right to be angry with you."

Now wait a minute, Erik thought, bristling. "I think I have a little more right to be angry with you than you with me."

Charles lowered his head and raised his eyebrows in disbelief.

"No," Erik continued. "You put me out of commission for 6 months. If anyone gets to be angry, it's me."

"You were going to kill all those people!"

"They'd do the same to us!"

"Not all of them! Good heavens, Erik, you sound just like him."

He didn't need to specify who 'he' was. The helmet Erik always kept nearby was reminder enough.

"Perhaps he was right about some things."

"Are you listening to yourself? What you're talking about, it's no better than what you fear they would do to us."

"They fear us. You know where that will lead"

"You give them something to fear. Striking pre-emptively is what starts needless wars. You put that helmet on because you thought I would do something to you, correct? Always on the offensive."

"And look what happened the first time that helmet came off in your presence. You ripped my consciousness from my body. It seems I had reason to seek protection."

Charles averted his gaze. Even with his mouth closed, it was obvious he was biting his tongue. "You were going to kill all those people."

"We're talking in circles, Charles. We're never going to see eye to eye on this. I won't let our people suffer. It's already begun. You saw it in the lab Onslaught destroyed."

"I'd point out that not all humans deserve to be punished for the shortcomings of a few, but you've already heard that argument since it's the one I make every time you cite labs such as those."

The pair stared at one another again, neither backing down. Somehow, they'd fallen right back into the pattern they'd formed over the years. Erik should've foreseen this. Honesty wasn't something that came easily to either of them, at least not together. It had become a weapon, a knife to stab and twist until the other yielded. Since Erik's departure, the yielding part of the equation hadn't come about, so the two were instead left bleeding, patching up their wounds with the hopes that next time would be different. It never was.

Charles sighed and set down his half-eaten sandwich.

"We aren't going to resolve our philosophical differences right now. Not when I've proven to you why you can't trust me and Stryker is making a move that will obviously not invoke your trust in humanity. Just...consider your actions and what they mean for the future you're hoping to create."

"I always do."

Charles expression became somewhat pained before smoothing out into resignation.

"Very well. Let's get back to the task at hand. Do you have any more concerns about Onslaught? Anything that you've thought of now that you know my side of the past few months?"

"No. You're quite the storyteller," Erik replied, making a bid to restore some semblance of levity to the conversation.

"It's much easier to weave a story one has experienced."

His face took on the look Erik had been so desperate to keep off it earlier. So his attempt to lighten the mood had been a spectacular failure. Fantastic. Perhaps just let the conversation progress naturally…and avoid touchy subjects like Erik's helmet and Charles' refusal to see reason when it came to humanity.

"I'm surprised he let you see all of it."

"He didn't want me to. He only intended for me to see the people he killed and tortured and mind-wiped. He tried to keep me subdued during his other activities, but I found a way around that fairly quickly."

"No offense, Charles, but it took Onslaught years to find a way to get around your control. Are you telling me that it only took you a matter of months to get around his?"

"Weeks, actually," Charles said in the charmingly arrogant way only Charles Xavier could get away with using. "I've had practice possessing a body while keeping another entity at bay for over two decades. Onslaught only gained a body once before this and even then only for a fraction of the time he's had this time around. No matter how many walls he put up, I always had a signal. Like a television. We made a game of it. He's powerful, very powerful, but I've had practice and I'm not exactly weak myself. Or I wasn't. Not until he took our telepathy. Now I'm afraid I'm rather useless."

"You're not," Erik responded, almost a plea. He hated that they'd circled back to Charles' lack of telepathy, knowing how much it must pain Charles to have lost it. "There's so much more to you than your telepathy."

Charles scoffs. "Says the man who bases everyone's identity upon what they can do."

"I encourage them to accept themselves for what they are. What mutants can do is important, especially in the war we're fighting," he defended, then winced as he realized his mistake.

Charles gave a sad smile. "And what does that say about me? I can do nothing."

"You saved Emma-"

"Because Jean got me in her head and I knew what Onslaught had done."

"But that's exactly it! If we're fighting Onslaught, you're more valuable than ever. He's a part of you. You're the only one who can truly help us defeat him."

"And what then? What if defeating him doesn't return my telepathy?"

Ah. There it was. Beneath all his anger at Erik and frustration with himself lay the fear that his ability would be forever lost to him. That was a possibility Erik honestly hadn't thought of. His hesitation cost him. Charles shook his head, eyes focused on the ceiling before falling to the other side of the room as far from Erik as possible. Seeing Charles so defeated was something Erik never wanted to witness, even after they'd grown apart. He hadn't seen what Charles had been like after his paralysis, but he imagined that it was perhaps similar. After all, losing his telepathy had to be like losing a limb. The X-Men never talked about it, but there had been indications that telepathy had been his saving grace in the aftermath of India. The fact that his power was mental and therefore still the strongest part of him was pivotal to the recovery. He still had hope of regaining his ability for now, but if it wasn't possible…how much would that change the man Erik had grown to admire, the only man he counted as a friend? If he really did see himself as useless…

"No."

Charles jerked his attention back to Erik in confusion. "What?"

"I can tell what you're thinking. You're more than your telepathy. You run a school. You're a world renowned geneticist. You're at the forefront of the fight for mutant rights. The general public doesn't know you're a mutant. They value you and your mind not for your telepathy, but for your intelligence. For your ability to hold a logical argument and explain your position to the dimmest of audiences. You're a teacher, a researcher, a headmaster, a mentor, and a...a friend. None of those roles depend upon your telepathy. Some may be augmented by it, yes, but certainly not dependent."

Erik had never seen Charles look truly dumbfounded. The man's eyes were just a little wider than normal, eyebrows approaching his hairline, mouth cracked open loosely, and head tilted just the slightest bit forward. He appeared, for all intents and purposes, to be speechless.

"You're going to be fine, either way, but shall we focus on stopping Onslaught from world domination before we face the possibility of your life without telepathy? Besides, Emma wasn't lying. You still have impressive shielding and uncannily good instincts when dealing with telepathic interference. How would you have released her if you didn't have something of your telepathy still within you?"

"Maybe...maybe with Jean and Emma's help, we could hold Onslaught long enough for you to stop him."

Erik paused. Stopping Onslaught would be great, but, despite his speech about how Charles would be fine without his telepathy, his goal was to both defeat Onslaught and restore Charles' abilities. Then it came to him.

"If you and Jean and Emma will be in his head anyway, why not just take your telepathy back? You know how he did it the first time, right?"

"I…yes, I suppose I do. Though…" Charles hesitated.

"Though?"

"Oh I suppose you'll find out sooner or later. I may possess latent telekinetic abilities."

His jaw chose that moment to gain a mind of its own and drop. "You may- You didn't think that pertinent to mention before?"

"The first time it manifested was when I threw the helmet from you head," Charles defended, managing to be both sheepish and defiant. "I suppose it just needed a stressful situation to kick-start it. I only realized when it was too late to do anything."

Realization struck. "The rope. Onslaught used rope when he attacked the other night. I'd assumed it had metal in it that I hadn't sensed in the heat of the moment. Why didn't you say anything before?"

"Well it's not as if it came up in our first discussion. Plus, it's nowhere near as powerful as Jean's or a mutant whose primary power is telekinesis. It's just…there. Hank is going to kick himself. With Jean and Emma both manifesting secondary mutations, we shouldn't have assumed I'd be any different. Logically, we should've expected me to have one as well."

"One other than the entity set on world domination?"

"Onslaught isn't a mutation. He's a side effect," Charles chided, as if that was common knowledge Erik should have somehow had.

"Great. Will getting telepathy and telekinesis back be more difficult than just telepathy?"

"It shouldn't be."

"Okay, so you, Emma, and Jean go into Onslaught's head, get your telepathy and telekinesis back, pull out, then I take Onslaught out once he's relatively defenseless. Seems easy enough to me."

"Right," Charles scoffed.

"We'll need a more detailed plan than that."

"After the children have finished eating."

"Please tell me you're lumping Emma in with the children. I desperately want to see her face when she finds out."

Charles smirked. "After the other mutants have finished eating we can gather back here and brainstorm a more detailed plan. In the meantime, let's finish this tray you were kind enough to put together. If we leave these sandwiches here, Sean will inhale them without a second thought. Then he'll choke, and scream to dislodge it, and shatter the window, and I was really rather happy when we got through the window-replacing phase."

Erik laughed. He was surprised that it was a genuine laugh. He'd missed that. As leader of the Brotherhood, it wasn't often he could let his guard down enough to actually enjoy things. He'd bet good money the same was true of Charles.

"Well, I wouldn't want to break your streak."

The two fell into companionable conversation, pushing Onslaught to the back of their mind. At least for the time being.

* * *

Everyone sat a bit more comfortably when they reconvened in Charles' bedroom. It was obvious the professor was starting to get antsy from so much time in bed, but Hank insisted at least another afternoon, just to be safe. Just enough time to come up with a more solid plan.

"You think you, Emma, and Jean can just waltz into Onslaught's head and take back your powers?"

"I never said it would be simple, Miss Salvadore, but unless you can propose a better plan, I suggest you begin thinking of ways to contribute to the present effort."

Angel sulked, but offered no better alternatives.

"How much time do we have?" Warren asked. "What's our timeline like?"

"Their Cerebro will be ready within a week of the delivery of the metal."

"But it should be functional before then," Hank asserted. "Just not for what they want to use it for."

"I suspect it's functional now just not, as you say, at the level they expect it to be in a few days."

"So the sooner we can be ready the better," Sean said.

"Yes, now, let's come up with a plan so we can get on with preparations."

And come up with a plan they did. It was rather impressive, Erik thought, how well his and Charles' people worked together. Within two hours, they had a plan solidified. Riptide and Angel were going to fetch the rest of the Brotherhood. That contingent would meet the X-Men, Magneto, Mystique, and Emma at Alkali Lake. Everyone filed out once more, ready to train in earnest if for no other reason than to blow off steam following the defeat at Onslaught's hand. Erik remained where he was, effectively blocking Charles from maneuvering into his wheelchair.

After a frustrated sigh, Charles met Erik's eye. "Anything else you want? Or are you being overprotective again?"

Erik maintained his seriousness, letting the sarcasm roll off his back. "Is there anything else you can tell me about Onslaught? Any weaknesses to help me destroy him?"

Charles hesitated, chewing on the inside of his lip. Erik gave his best encouraging look, which, let's face it, was probably out of practice.

"No. I can't think of anything else," Charles responded after another pondering look that went on just a second too long.

Erik didn't know what to make of that. They'd been apart for a while, but Erik still prided himself in being able to read Charles. That silence, it hadn't been one of thought. It had been one of decision. Charles hadn't been thinking about a way to kill Onslaught. He had been deciding something. Deciding whether to tell Erik a way to defeat Onslaught? That didn't make sense. Surely, Charles wanted Onslaught gone as much as the rest of them.

"You're sure?" Erik asked with caution.

"Yes," Charles replied more confidently this time. "May I leave the bed now?"

Erik had no choice but to move aside. There was training to be done and little time in which to do it. He'd have to assume he was misreading Charles. It mattered little anyway. He would make good on his last words to Onslaught. When the time came to face the entity again, they'd be ready.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, we are now officially caught up with my ff.net postings. There will probably be a delay with future chapters because I've just moved and leave for vacation tomorrow, then start a doctoral program. For the 5 people who are reading this (who I love with all my heart <3), I promise I will update, but it might be more sporadic. In fact, I'm hoping my vacation will give me extra writing time. Hopefully my wish will actually come true because I do, in fact, have a third (and final) sequel planned and I want time to sketch it out more.


	10. If I knew myself, I'd run away

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from a quote by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

The plan was simple enough. Get to Alkali Lake, infiltrate the facility, shut Cerebro down. Onslaught and Stryker would no doubt insert themselves into things somewhere along the way. When exactly it happened couldn't be anticipated. It could only be prepared for.

Charles and Erik sat in silence on the plane as it lanced through the sky towards Canada. As soon as they'd left the safety of Charles' room, they'd fallen back into their roles as unflappable leaders of their respective groups. Charles had only once broken character. It was a private moment between the leaders after a long day of training. Magneto found Charles in his study mindlessly flipping through a large tome. The silence pervading the room absorbed click of the door as it shut.

"I was just reading some Faulkner," the professor said without looking up.

"I'd ask why but I long ago gave up on understanding what motivates your literary pursuits."

"I'm flattered. I suspect that's the first thing you've given up on in quite a while."

"Why are you reading Faulker, Charles?"

"He said, 'Try to be better than yourself'. Sort of takes on a new meaning given the present situation, doesn't it?" he answered, offering a wan smile.

Erik crossed the room and shut the book with the respect he knew Charles expected his books to receive. Charles continued to stare at the now closed book until Erik's insistent stare forced him to look up. The other man didn't speak until he knew he had his friend's attention.

"We'll defeat him."

"I don't know that we actually can. Not completely. I'm afraid…if I can't contain him, I'll end up enslaved within my own mind again."

"That won't happen. You have Emma and Jean to back you up. I won't let him win this time. I'm going to stop him once and for all. Like you said, I rarely give up on anything."

Another wavering smile, one that seemed to say 'You won't, but thanks for trying'.

"Of course. And if we fail, Onslaught will enslave us all so it's not as if we'll be aware of our plight. At least there's that."

"So optimistic,Charles," Erik said. He hoped the undercurrent of worry he felt was properly hidden. If it wasn't, Charles gave no indication of noticing.

The conversation had ended there. Erik would look back at that interaction years later as the last time Charles showed uncertainty in his presence.

They arrived at Alkali Lake without a hitch. The Brotherhood met up with them as planned. Mystique was the obvious choice for infiltration. She took the control room with an ease that left even Charles impressed (and studiously ignoring the obscene gesture she made as she slid under the closing security door). The united mutants were a formidable force, leaving a slew of unconscious soldiers in their wake. Magneto led, followed by the majority of the X-Men and Brotherhood. The three telepaths (because, yes, Charles still counted even if his powers were incapacitated) brought up the rear, surrounded by Havok, Cyclops, Riptide, and Banshee.

"Mystique can't shut down Cerebro from the control room," reported Emma after a telepathic rendezvous. "The machine itself isn't far from us. Down this corridor, first right-"

Chaos broke out. The group of soldiers ambushing wouldn't be much of an issue if not for the demonic figure appearing and disappearing at random.

"Azazel," Charles affirmed. "Somebody engage him and keep him occupied. Emma, Jean, can you break Onslaught's hold on him if he's in one place long enough?"

"On it," Jean replied, ignoring Emma's "do you even need to ask" look.

The teleporter appeared and swung his sword at Kitty. The girl phased through the wall, dragging Alison to safety with her, before popping back through the wall behind Azazel. Delivering an impressive kick to his back, the girl ducked the demon's retaliating blow and somersaulted behind him. He brought the sword down only to have Shadowcat catch the blade between flat-palmed hands. She twisted through the wall, pulling the sword with her until it was stuck in the wall, a modern day sword in the stone. Azazel was no King Arther. His best efforts did nothing to dislodge the weapon. It was, however, enough of a distraction to give Emma and Jean the time they needed. Judging by the teleporter's choked off yell, it wasn't a painless process, but a moment later, he fell to his knees panting.

"It's done," Emma said.

"Welcome back, Azazel," greeted Charles.

The mutant gave what appeared to be an impressive stink eye. The victory was short lived though, broken by Magneto yelling for Charles. When the telepaths looked Erik's way, they found him battling half the X-Men and Brotherhood including Hank, Angel, and Toad.

"What are they doing?!" Jean yelled over the commotion.

Charles cursed. "Without his focus on controlling Azazel's mind, Onslaught is free to control everyone else. Can you two shield anyone aside from us?"

"Between keeping us and Azazel free, which I assume is a priority since keeping the teleporter from killing is all would probably be helpful? No," came Emma's snide reply.

The battle raged. Three hits to Magneto and two unconscious mutants later, Charles was still evaluating options.

Jean threw a mindless Scott into a wall. "Professor?!"

Charles' head shot up. "Azazel, I need you to teleport everyone but Erik, Emma, Jean, and myself a few miles away. Onslaught will still be able to control them, but it will do him no good if they're in the middle of the forest."

Azazel gave a short affirmative nod. With a pop, he materialized in from of Magneto and grabbed the three mutants closest to the Brotherhood leader. Group by group, the mutants disappeared. Erik managed to hold the attackers back with only a few cuts and bruises. A plasma burn to his shoulder seemed to be the worst injury he had. Slowly but surely, the number of attacking mutants dwindled. Azazel popped in once more, his breaths a bit harsher than usual.

"Get as far away as possible," Charles ordered. "Siberia if you can. Where he won't reach you unless he has the machine."

"How will I know to return?"

"I'd say if you still have control of your mind in a couple of hours, we've won. If not, well, it won't much matter."

"Very well." He disappeared with a tip of his head.

Charles heaved a sigh of relief. One task down. At least with everyone else out of the way, they knew what they were dealing with, knew they were protected from Onslaught's influence.

Erik was out of breath when they reached him, but brushed it off. "We must be close if he was trying so hard to stop us."

"We are," Emma said as she strode ahead. "Up this corridor."

Magneto followed Emma, cape billowing in his wake. Jean hung back with Charles a moment.

"You ready, Professor?"

"He'll be angry we took his army," he said. A smile broke out on his otherwise stoic face.

Jean grinned and the pair followed Emma and Magneto. They didn't have to go far. Emma pulled up short at the adjoining corridor. Erik followed suit. As the entrance came into view, Charles could see why. Stryker was positioned in the middle of the hall, flanked by Onslaught and a boy who must have been Jason. Onslaught had his hands linked behind his back, casual as ever. His lips quirked into a smile as Charles and Jean joined their comrades.

"I'm afraid you won't be getting to my machine," the colonel had been saying.

At Charles' appearance, Stryker pulled back. A moment passed while he looked between the man in front of him and the one on his right.

"There's two of you."

Onslaught rolled his eyes. Stryker took a step away from him, his own eyes wide. At the same time, Jason slumped.

"I'm sorry, Father," the boy gasped. "He took control of me. I couldn't say anything. I-"

"He's not in a wheelchair," Stryker interrupted to Onslaught. "You were just in a wheelchair!"

"How very observant," Onslaught sneered. "I'm afraid that's been an illusion. At least for the past few days since I separated myself from dear Charles. I think it's time we're all a bit more honest with each other." He paused only to hold up his hand as a beam flew towards him. "Not now, Magneto. Can't you see I'm having a conversation?" The metal clanged to the ground as a wood beam hurdled at Erik, knocking the helmeted man into the wall.

"Now, where were we? Ah, yes, your pet project. I'm sorry to inform you it's actually my pet project. This whole operation has been mine from the moment you brought me in and tried to have your little boy take over me. Cerebro, which is very very operational I might add, is exactly what I needed for my plan."

"You have one though. At your school. I saw the plans," Stryker said. 

"Too much time and effort. Why would I do that when I could laze about and still have a whole labor force at my discretion through the ever so generous CIA? It took half the time and there were far fewer questions asked. Plus, you know me and Charles. Always spoiling for a challenge. Not to mention that I had the pleasure of seeing your plans. Naughty, naughty by the way. You would never allow the peace that I will create." 

Stryker raised his head high, but his hitched breaths betrayed his fear. "What are you going to do with me?" 

"My original plan was to wipe your mind and send you and your son on your merry way. Unfortunately, you tried to control me before I even had a chance to offer you my services. I didn't appreciate that. You've been so very helpful, but your purpose has been served." 

With little more than a tilt of Onslaught's head, the colonel gave a gasp and jerk then fell to the floor. It happened so fast and with so little care that it took a minute to register that the man wasn't breathing anymore. Erik raised shocked eyes to the image of his friend. Even seeing that the real Charles out of the corner of his eye, watching the visage of the man smiling wickedly at the dead man on the floor was startling to say the least. 

Jason opened and closed his mouth like a fish out of water. "What did you do?" 

Onslaught swept his gaze over to the teen with a dangerously neutral expression. "What do you think? You were the one who tried to enslave my mind. You know what kind of place it is." 

"But why?" the younger Stryker whimpered. 

"I've already said and I hate to be repetitive. But mostly because he annoyed me." The entity may as well have been examining his nails for all the care he was showing. 

Jason's devastation shifted to determination as he heaved deep breaths of panic or maybe anger. Erik knew the signs of telepathic attack. Onslaught winced and rubbed a quick circle at his temple. His face darkened. 

"You shouldn't have done that, Jason. I liked you. You had potential. It's a shame your father had so much time to influence you. You're obviously going to be a problem. Such a waste." 

Erik couldn't help but feel a bit of pity for the boy. He was, after all, a teenager. With work, he could still be molded to be useful to their cause. Then Onslaught's words fully struck him. He felt his stomach drop in time with Charles desperate yell of "No!". The shout was overwhelmed by Jason's own cry. The boy grabbed his head then fell silent as he collapsed beside his father. 

Jean tore her gaze from the pair on the floor. "Is he-" 

"I was going to let them go live a peaceful life as father and son," he said in what would have been a regretful tone if not for the smile twitching at the edge of his lips. "I suppose dying together was the next best alternative." 

Magneto managed to pull himself back up to a standing position. The initial hit had taken him by surprise, but now he was ready. "I keep thinking I've seen the worst of you and you keep proving me wrong." 

Onslaught's eyes sparkled as if he'd just received a compliment. "I could say the same of you. Your little stunt with the machine wasn't exactly saintly. Not to mention the assassinations. You didn't think I didn't notice, did you? What a disappointment you were, my friend. I look forward to what happens if you win. 'Mutant and proud' until someone disagrees with you. I wonder, if you won, what would you do with mutants like Charles and our students? What a world that would be. Of course, it won't matter. I will have single-handedly established a golden age of peace and you'll be dead." 

"Delusional as ever." 

"Very well, then, Magneto," he said throwing his arms wide. "Prove me wrong." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Movie spoilers: In X2, when Mystique is sliding under a closing door to the control room, she flips off her attackers.
> 
> Classes are starting up, but I'm hopeful I'll still be able to do relatively regular updates, especially now that I'm moved and have my new kitten and stuff. It might be every 2 weeks, but who knows. I know I'm taking one night to do non-school stuff and I have basic outlines for the last chapters of this and most of the chapters for the last sequel so that should make things easier.


	11. All the King's Horses and All the King's Men

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really had every intention of getting this posted a week and a half ago, but my mind has been all over the place and my mood wasn’t in the right place for writing. Fingers crossed it’s not rushed. If I go back and feel like it is, I’m going to change it. I’ll make a note in the next chapter if I do.

A metal shard sent Magneto staggering to the side. The hit wasn’t hard enough to cause more than a loss of concentration, but from Onslaught’s choked off gasp Erik supposed anything more fatal would’ve been a bonus in the entity’s books. Coughing, Onslaught pulled the garrote of what had once been nails from his neck and hurled the now straight weapon at his opponent. With a swipe of his hand, Erik sent it into the wall.

While Onslaught regained his breath, the magnokinetic risked a glance over to his own telepathic contingent. They were in the same position they’d been in since just after Jason had collapsed. Emma and Jean had a hand on each of Charles’ shoulders. They were out of the way shielded by a weak but efficient telekinetic field Jean had thrown up to protect them while they were…out of body? Erik couldn’t think of a better way to phrase it. They had their eyes closed, though occasionally one of them would flinch or wince. He couldn’t help but wonder what exactly was going on on their side of the battle.

Another piece of some ill-fated machine flew within an inch of his face. He turned just in time to duck the rather large chunk of wall hurdling towards him.

“I’m curious,” Erik panted out after rolling back to his feet, “do you always wear red and purple? At least Charles mixes is up a bit.”

The entity straightened his vest primly with an affronted expression. “I think it looks nice.” 

“Not really your colors.” 

“Well, they aren’t really yours either, but that doesn’t seem to stop you.”

Erik narrowed his eyes and pulled bits of the floor from underneath Onslaught. Back to the task at hand.

* * *

As soon as Jason had fallen, Charles knew it was time to initiate the plan. Lips pursed, he glanced to the two women on either side of him. Without another word, they put hands on his shoulders and linked their minds. The Alkali Lake facility disappeared around them.

The trio appeared on a bustling cobbled road. The women glanced around as Charles began walking.

“Welcome to Oxford…or Oxford as Onslaught and I remember it. I imagine we’ll be visiting quite a few places from my memory. Onslaught won’t make this easy.”

“How do we find him?” Jean asked. There were far too many store doors to check them all. Magneto was powerful, but no way he could hold off Onslaught for that long.

“We need to go where the most people are,” Charles replied. “They’re his defense system. He’s trying to stop us from continuing, so he’ll be focusing his defenses to achieve his goal. The areas he that are most heavily guarded will logically be the areas he doesn’t want us to go.”

“And how many layers of defense will we have to get through before we get to him.”

“Excellent question, Miss Frost. One I can’t answer, I’m afraid. I suspect we’ll know when we’re close to the end. I don’t believe he’s fully alerted to our presence yet. I suggest we move on while we can.”

The three moved forward with Charles taking the easy lead. He strode with confidence, glancing at doors and dismissing them. A right turn took them down a more crowded side street. A small smile crept onto Charles’ face.

“I think I know where we’re headed. Far too simple.”

“So we’re basically just going to find the right door until we get through Onslaught’s defenses then face Onslaught head on?” Jean queried as they walked.

Emma scoffed. “You make it sound so easy. Remember the walls he had in my head? Those were defenses he set up and left behind. Imagine what kind of walls he’s actively creating to protect his own mind.”

“The walls will be easy enough to breach with me here,” Charles stated. “Even in his own body, his foundation is still me and I know where I would hide things. The trouble will come once his defenses kick in.”

A few passersby spared glances at the three of them. Jean shivered as she recalled what had happened in Emma’s head.

“Here we are. Stay close,” Charles said as they pushed through the thickening crowd.

“Where are we?” Emma asked, trying to catch a glance at the sign above the door.

“The pub Raven and I frequented during my time at Oxford. It’s where Moira found me.”

His hand landed on the doorknob. A glance behind him sent an unspoken message. Emma and Jean each gripped one of his shoulders. He pushed the door open and everything went white.

* * *

Onslaught slammed Magneto into the wall. Erik let himself fall. Loath as he was to admit it, the fight was starting to wear him down. Charles’ doppelganger wasn’t exactly dancing a jig, but he seemed better off than Erik. The magnokinetic grunted as he pulled himself to his feet. 

“Getting tired? You’re not exactly as young as you used to be after all,” Onslaught sneered.

“I’m fine.”

The appraising once over and snort of laughter were answer enough. “Of course you are. You’re counting on your telepath friends to break down my shields. Very impressive, them pulling Charles in with them. How has he taken to life as a human?”

“He’s still one of us, telepath or not,” growled Erik.

“Touchy, touchy. Do you truly think they’ll succeed?”

“Yes,” Magneto replied without hesitation.

“You have so much faith in him. You truly think he’ll destroy me. You’re so very wrong.”

“I’m not. He’s been waiting years to be free of you. We all have. The world will be better with you gone.”

Onslaught quirked a half smile. “We’ll see soon enough.”

* * *

When their vision cleared, Emma, Jean, and Charles found themselves in what had once been a professionally furnished room. The window that took up most of one wall was shattered. Debris was everywhere and screams could be heard in the distance.

“Damn,” Charles whispered under his breath.

Thump.

“What? Where are we?” Jean asked.

“I wasn’t even here,” Charles mumbled. “Why did he choose this?”

Thump.

“What the hell is that noise?” Emma asked, glancing at the ceiling.

“Seriously, Professor, where are we?” Jean repeated, trying not to let her impatience shine through.

“The CIA facility where we gathered back in 1962. It was the first time we encountered Shaw.”

“You mean when you and Magneto came to Russia and spoiled my fun?” Emma asked somehow managing to pout.

Jean, however, blanched. “The time the Hellfire Club killed everyone they could get their hands on by dropping them from the sky?”

Thump.

“Yes. I’d suggest you don’t look outside.”

Of course that was the first thing both women did just in time to see the body of a CIA agent hit the ground. Jean let out a startled scream. 

“How is this in your memory if you were in Russia?” Emma asked, very serious and a couple of shades closer to her signature white.

“The boys showed me what happened. I just…I don’t know why he brought us here. I hated that I wasn’t here to protect them, but I don’t see why that would lead him to pick this as a venue for-”

“Well, well, well,” a smarmy voice interrupted. “Look what we have here.”

“That would be why,” Emma responded.

They turned to find Sebastian Shaw, flanked by Azazel and Riptide. In a flash, Azazel was behind Jean holding her arms to her sides. Riptide threw his arm out, sending Charles careening into the wall. The strong wind kept him pinned.

“Emma, darling,” Shaw began, “such a shame you’ve chosen to join with these…unenlightened souls. I always knew you’d be a disappointment. I suppose I’ll just have to bring you back into the fold. You remember how I trained you before, yes? I see many of those sessions in our future.”

Charles tried to pull against the wind, but couldn’t overcome the force. He knew what was happening. Onslaught was playing off their fears, trying to keep them locked in place. Emma’s fear was Shaw. This was the most terrifying memory he had of Shaw, aside from his own torture which would be far less meaningful to the blond. It was up to her to get them past this. But so soon after being locked in her own mind with her nightmares…would she be able to handle all that again? Fighting the gale force winds, Charles moved his head to take in Emma’s emotional state as she faced off against Shaw again. To his surprise, he found her smiling.

“Oh, honey, that’s very threatening,” she said as she sauntered up to her former leader, “but you’ve already tried this on me. I’m not going to fall for it again.”

Without pause, she sent the man flying with a fierce backhand. 

“Next time you want to play off someone’s fears, don’t give them a practice round beforehand.”

With a narrowing of her eyes, Riptide and Azazel flickered away. Charles and Jean dropped to the ground.

“Very impressive, Miss Frost,” Shaw said, brushing himself off. His image flickered briefly into a visage of Onslaught before returning to Shaw. “I’ll keep that in mind next time.”

With that, the figure was gone.

Emma wiped her hands dramatically. “Shall we move on?”

“We shall. But first…Jean, you should be prepared. I suspect that whatever is behind that door will be meant to panic you enough that you’ll lose your control. If you lose your grip, he’ll kick us out and all will be lost. Are you ready?”

“As ready as I can be.”

The door swung open and they moved on.

* * *

“Why do you want a war so badly?” Onslaught asked. “What is it about you that favors violence over peace?”

“Peace was never an option.”

“Peace is always an option if you have the right means to achieve it,” the entity flourished. Onslaught’s eyes sparkled with malice. Whatever was coming next, Magneto wouldn’t like it. Every time the two were exhausted physically (something no doubt new to Onslaught), the telepath turned to psychological warfare. It figured. Charles could wield words with far more acuity than Robin Hood could a bow and arrow.

Onslaught looked him straight in the eye. “What would your mother think?”

Erik froze. All the times he and Charles had argued, all the passive remarks and jabs, they had both known Erik’s mother was off limits.

“My mother would be proud that I’m standing up for myself,” he grit out. Anger boiled through his veins begging to be released. Erik paused a moment to be proud of himself for keeping it at bay. Fighting Onslaught was a game of strategy. Lashing out in anger would only play into the entity’s advantage. He credited Charles’ influence for his ability to keep it in. He hadn’t wasted those two years in Westchester completely. Unfortunately, one victory over himself wasn’t going to cut it. 

“Proud?” Onslaught laughed. “Your mother would be dead, human as she was. Your crusade won’t spare anyone. New York showed that well enough. The people you kill are men, women, children, fathers, mothers, sons, and daughters. None of that matters to you. What would have made your mother so different aside from the privilege of being directly related to you?”

Magneto ground his teeth, unable to answer. Because of the anger, obviously. Not because he could come up with no justification.

“Look at you, the mighty Magneto,” Charles’ doppelganger continued. “Shaw would be so very proud.”

Half the wall came down over Onslaught. For a second, the only sound that filled the air was the whine of metal supports settling and Magneto’s panting. Then the rubble exploded outwards. Magneto felt himself hurled into the wall to his left. A chunk of something fell across his stomach. It didn’t cause much damage, but it was enough to trap him. Onslaught swung to his feet like a tape of someone falling being rewound. He strode past Erik towards Cerebro. 

No, no, no Erik thought as he pushed at the rubble. It started to move, then shifted off him, but it was too late. Onslaught gave a bow and tip of the hat gesture before the heavy (very non-magnetic) door cut him off from Erik’s view.

With a yell, Magneto hurled a beam at the door to no avail. He’d failed. It was up to the telepaths now.

* * *

The sun shone bright on the Westchester lawn.

Emma quirked an eyebrow. “So…is your greatest fear your schoolwork or…”

Jean didn’t respond. Her breathing was hitched as she stared unblinking at the sky.

“Jean, what’s wrong?” Charles said before following her gaze. “Oh. Oh dear.”

Emma held up a hand to shield her eyes against the light. “Is the sun getting brighter?”

“It’s not the sun, I’m afraid. Jean, you know what this is. Control it.” Charles had a hand on his pupil’s shoulder.

A shriek pierced the air. Emma just managed to duck as something swooped where she’d been standing. As she righted herself, she finally got a look at what was attacking them. It was a bird. A giant, flaming, red bird.

“What the hell is that thing?!”

Her question went unanswered. Jean turned her terrified gaze to her professor who gave her a knowing look. A yell broke their moment. 

“No…” Jean whispered.

Scott was running towards them followed by Ororo and the other students. From their vantage point, they couldn’t see the bird turning to charge them.

“Scott, look out!” yelled Jean.

But it was too late. The bird swooped down. When it ascended again, there was nothing but charred corpses. 

With a pain-laced scream of “NO!”, Jean was running to her fallen friends.

Charles reached after her. “Jean, wait, it’s not real!”

Sobs broke out as the woman reached the remains. Emma and Charles reached her just as the bird made its reappearance. A litany of no’s was falling from Jean’s lips. Charles knelt beside her.

“Jean, you know this isn’t real. This hasn’t happened.”

“But…it’s exactly what I dreamed about…”

“Which is exactly why he picked it. You can stop this.”

It didn’t seem to be working though as Jean fell back into a steady repetition of “This isn’t happening”s.

Emma cleared her throat. “Uh, Dr. Xavier, I think we need to address the bird that’s about to charge us.”

Charles stood and faced the bird, which was turning to swoop towards them just as it had the students.

“This isn’t happening, this isn’t happening, this isn’t happening.”

Emma could not, would not, fail because a little girl couldn’t handle a stupid bird. A giant flaming bird, but still. 

“We’ll have to try to deal with it ourselves. At least until Jean can gather herself,” Charles said with a glance back to his student.

“I’m ready when you are, Professor.”

The bird was nearly upon them. Whatever it was, it certainly wasn’t intimidated by them. 

“If it burns us, we’ll just wake up, right?” Emma asked.

Charles looked far more unsure than Emma would’ve liked. 

“Not the answer I was looking for,” she monotoned.

The bird was sweeping towards them. They barely had time to notice that the redhead’s “This isn’t happening” had taken on a far more determined tone before Jean pushed between them, head down resolutely, and threw her arm out. Instead of meeting a fiery death, they were covered by a wave of ash. Just like that, the bodies disappeared, leaving the three heaving telepaths. 

Charles put a hand on Jean’s shoulder. The woman hiccupped a few more sobs before taking a shaky breath and turning around.

“Can we move on now?”

“Wait just a minute,” Emma protested. “What the hell was that?”

“Um, well, that was the-“

“Nothing you need to concern yourself with,” Charles cut in, stopping the stuttering Jean. “A personal fear of Jean’s. I believe we have other tasks to address for the time being?”

“Fine,” Emma replied slowly after an appraising look at Jean. Charles and Jean started towards the door to the mansion while Emma stayed behind. There was something more going on here than fear of a bird. Because, as well as he’d hidden it, that bird had freaked Xavier out too. Something to keep in mind for later. With that, she swept after her comrades.

* * *

Erik paced in front of the heavy doors. More than anything else, he hated waiting. He was a man of action. Yet here he was, his part of the plan finished, with nothing to do but twiddle his thumbs and see if Charles would succeed. The world was at stake and he could do nothing to change the outcome.

Behind the doors, Cerebro whirred.

“Come on, Charles. Finish the job.”

* * *

A warehouse. A very specific warehouse, one forever etched into Charles’ memory. The first place where he had gone up against Erik and Raven after the formation of the Brotherhood. The setting was much the same. The X-Men and Brotherhood were there. So were Shaw and a much smaller version of the bird they’d just defeated. They weren’t facing off against one another though. The entire population of the room was poised to attack the three telepaths. A door to their right was the only exit.

Charles took a deep breath. “This must be his last level of defense.”

Jean looked excited. “If we can get past this-“

“We get to face the real challenge,” Emma finished. Jean deflated.

“Well, then I believe we have a mob to fight,” Charles broke in.

The fight began in earnest. Time flew by in hits and misses. The trio was only halfway to the door. Their opponents kept reviving,. They were tiring. It was becoming more and more apparent that they weren’t going to make it to the door.

Jean sent her opponents flying with a telekinetic wave. “We have to do something!”

“There’s no way all of us can get through that door,” Charles said. 

“But one of us can,” Emma finished as she ducked a plasma beam before turning to Charles. “It’s all you, sugar.” 

The man was already edging towards the door, maneuvering around the increased attacks coming his way. Jean and Emma did their jobs and protected him and he slipped through the door with surprising ease. He caught one last glance of the two telepaths staving off their attackers before the door clicked shut behind him.

* * *

Jean and Emma gasped and jerked a few steps as they came back to themselves. Magneto was by them in a flash, his attention focused mainly on the one of the trio who hadn’t yet moved.

“What happened? Did you succeed?”

The steady sound of Cerebro told him the answer already.

Emma straightened herself and glanced to the wheelchair-bound man between them. “We couldn’t beat Onslaught’s defenses, but we bought enough time for your Professor to get through. It’s up to him now.”

Jean glanced around the hallway littered with debris. “What the hell happened here? Where’s Onslaught?”

* * *

Charles turned to find himself in Cerebro. The fiery figure of Onslaught stood in the middle of the structure with a serene smile.

“Charles. I knew you’d find your way.”

“It’s over, Onslaught. Give it up.”

“Is that what you really want?” The figure began walking forward, matching Charles step for step until they stopped a few feet from each other.

“Of course it’s what I want.”

Onslaught ignored him. “Three quarters of the world is at my mercy as we speak. Can’t you feel them?”

He could feel them. It was a surprisingly heady feeling. So many minds, more being added every second, and all of them with an overwhelming sense of peace about them. Peace imposed on them. Charles shook himself, tamping down on the exhilaration. 

Onslaught continued, “There is no fighting. No desire for war or persecution.”

“Because you’re forcing it on them. It’s not real.”

A mocking smile. “Reality is just a percept of the mind? They’re happy. They don’t know any different.”

“It’s not right!”

“It’s what you wanted.”

“Not this way. Peace…it has to be a choice. Otherwise it’s meaningless.”

“What would you have me do?”

“Stop this madness.”

“And if I don’t?”

Charles hesitated. “I know how to stop you.”

“Please,” Onslaught scoffed. “You’ve known all along the one definitive way to stop me. And yet, given the opportunity, you kept it from Magneto.”

Damn. He’d really been hoping his other half wouldn’t have been perceptive enough to notice that. He inhaled and looked to the side, avoiding his doppelganger’s gaze.

“Why didn’t you tell him how to kill me, Charles?”

“You know why.”

“Yes, yes I do. It’s because the one and only way you can ensure my demise is by dying yourself. As long as you live, so shall I. As much as you hate me, we are the same. You’ve seen what Magneto and his Brotherhood are becoming. You know you and I are the only ones holding him back, the only ones who can stop him. I want to hear you say it. Why didn’t you tell Magneto the surefire way to kill me?”

Charles snapped, “Because if I die I’d leave the world to him and I refuse to do that.”

The statement seemed to pain Charles, but Onslaught only gave his signature grin.

“Finally some honesty! You don’t trust dear Erik nearly as much as you let on. So tell me, why should I stop?”

Charles opened his mouth to answer, then stopped. Any argument he had wouldn’t hold with Onslaught. They were all reasons Charles himself wouldn’t take this route…things he’d rejected as options…things that went straight into the creation of the entity leering at him. And now that entity was merged with Magneto, the only other person who could never be moved by his words. For all the eloquent rhetoric he knew he was capable of spouting, none of it would do anything to convince Onslaught to stop.

“You can’t think of a single reason why I should stop, can you? Charles Xavier, speechless. Someone should note the time and date. Don’t worry. I’ll take good care of the world. It’ll take some getting used to, but once you see it I’m sure you’ll be very happy with how things turned out.”

As Onslaught turned back to the center of the mental Cerebro, Charles found himself rooted into place. Onslaught was regaining power. No. This couldn’t happen. Charles couldn’t come this far just to fail. Emma and Jean had fought through three levels of mental warfare. Erik had battled half the mutants in the facility, not to mention Onslaught. The X-Men and Brotherhood had united to give him this one chance and he was fumbling it. 

No, he couldn’t appeal to Onslaught’s nonexistent moral side. That had been his mistake since Onslaught’s emergence. Onslaught didn’t have a moral side because Charles was has moral side. Because, no matter how much Charles denied it, Onslaught was him. 

“Everyone thinks of us as two different beings because they can’t stand the thought that their leader might be anything but the upstanding figurehead I’ve become. But they’re wrong.”

Onslaught stopped short but didn’t turn around.

“I was no better,” Charles continued. “I’ve been denying you, trying to find ways to repress you. I’ve spent so much time pretending we’re not the same that you had to form your own being for me to realize that we are.”

Onslaught turned, anticipating, curious.

“You and I, we are one being. Ever since we’ve separated, I’ve felt like something was missing. You’ve felt it too, yes?”

The silence tugged at Charles’ lips. He was onto something.

“You hate that I keep you in line and I hate having to keep you in line, but without one another, we’re nothing.”

“I beg your pardon,” the entity huffed, “but I’ve managed to take over three quarters of the world-“

“Yet it’s done nothing for the emptiness you’ve been feeling.”

Onslaught pursed his lips before releasing a grudging “No.”

“No matter what you do, it will never be enough.”

“How very perceptive. And what do you suggest we do about it?”

Charles took a steadying breath. “Stop what you’re doing…” he paused as Onslaught scoffed, “…and rejoin with me.”

That silenced his doppelganger. “You…want me back in your head.”

With a stiff nod, Charles affirmed, “Yes. You and I both know that we’re stronger together. No matter what you do, it will always be a fight if we’re separated.”

“But I’m so close…”

“And how long can you actually maintain control of the entire world? Without being at full strength, eventually you will fail.”

A tense silence fell. Onslaught stood, considering, before meeting Charles’ gaze again. “You would accept me as part of yourself.”

“I would.”

“I’ll have more influence over our actions.”

“Considering what both of us know of Erik’s plans…” Charles sighed, hardly believing what he was saying, “I don’t think that would be entirely bad.”

A smile started breaking out on Onslaught’s face. “Are you finally accepting that we’re stronger together? That you might need me when Magneto inevitably goes off the deep end?”

Another hesitation before, “I am.”

“I have terms.”

“As do I. Name yours.”

“You don’t keep me locked away. I get a say in our decisions. We train together so we’ll be strong enough when the time comes to do what needs to be done. Yours?”

“Our body is mine to control. I give you free reign, no chains or tethers, but you do not take control unless I allow it.” Onslaught narrowed his eyes before Charles interrupted. “Compromise. That’s the only way this will work.”

“Fine,” Onslaught grit out. “I accept your terms.”

“And I yours. Ah, one more thing. No more plots for world domination.”

“I promise I won’t try to take over the world again,” the entity said with a roll of his eyes.

“That went more smoothly than I thought it would.”

Onslaught shrugged. “Physicality was getting boring. What’s the fun in life if I’m not bothering you all the time? Now, how are we going to handle this? I assume we’ll be keeping my continued existence a secret.”

It didn’t take long to detail his plan. Charles smiled, trying not to think about how much it must be reminiscent of the one Onslaught so often gave. After all, what was done was done. Onslaught was as much a part of him as the morals he held so dear. Accepting that allowed him to control it.

“Hmmm,” Onslaught said. “Turns out Humpty Dumpty didn’t need the king’s horses or his men. He put himself back together all on his own. I’ll see you on the other side.”

* * *

Charles jerked back to reality at the same time the whir of Cerebro starting to wind down. Magneto was by his side in a second.

“What happened?”

“Get us into Cerebro,” Charles breathed heavily. “It’s time to end this.”

It didn’t take much to pry open the doors now that the machine wasn’t in use. Emma, Jean, and Charles followed at his heels. Onslaught was on his knees looking dazed. He pulled the helmet from his head and dropped it to the floor then dropped his hands for additional support. Panting, he pulled himself to face Magneto and the telepaths.

“The whole world,” he panted. “I could have saved it.”

“It’s not worth saving if everyone is enslaved to you,” Erik replied coldly.

“Careful. I may not be able to get through that helmet of yours, but I had free reign of the mutants in your Brotherhood. I’ve seen your plans for humanity. Wouldn’t want to make a hypocrite of yourself by rebuking me for enslaving people. At least I do it non-discriminately.”

A beam smacked Onslaught, who apparently didn’t have the power to stop it. The entity’s arms went out from under him. He recovered, pushing himself back up onto his elbows, and wiped blood from his lip. As he pulled the hand away and saw the blood covering it, he laughed.

“The truth hurts, doesn’t it?”

Erik’s temper was bubbling just below the surface. This needed to end. Now. He turned to Charles. “Can I kill him? Do you have your telepathy back?”

“My powers are my own again,” the telepath said, never tearing his gaze from his doppelganger. “Do what you will.”

Onslaught gave a narrow-eyed smirk at Magneto, who was giving his own leer.

“So this is it then, I suppose. It has truly been an honor. Best of luck with your plans for mutant supremacy. I’m sure your ideas for world domination are far more thought out than mine,” Onslaught jabbed. The being glanced to Charles once more. “You’d better make sure you destroy this place after I’m gone. If you don’t, Magneto here might just commandeer it and try to do exactly what Stryker wanted to. I wonder, Magneto, what does that make you.” 

Without warning, a sharpened rafter slammed into Onslaught’s chest. The entity gave a gasp followed by a wet cough. Blood spilled from his lips. Magneto made sure to look the being straight in the eye as he turned his wrist, twisting the metal painfully slowly. With one more gurgle, Onslaught collapsed and went still. The moment his eyes went blank, his body disappeared. Magneto jerked back.

“What happened? Where did he go?”

“He’s dead, Erik,” Charles’ calming, yet still breathless, voice assured him. “He was the one maintaining the body. When he died, there was nothing to sustain it.”

Magneto glanced around the dome. He didn’t like it. He much preferred having a body to assure himself of his victory. 

“Emma?”

“What? I don’t know how that mess worked. What Dr. Xavier is saying makes sense though. If the mind is gone and the body was being maintained by the mind, it’s only logical that the body would disappear.”

“Thank you, Miss Frost,” Xavier said.

Magneto gave a grunt. He still didn’t like it, but he supposed it made sense. Maybe…maybe all of this was finally over.

The professor looked back to his friend. “Erik, you need to destroy the machine.”

“What?” the magnokinetic asked, pulled from his thoughts. 

“You need to destroy the machine.”

“It’s not magnetic enough-“

“You’re right in the middle of it. Plus, you have all this mess around you,” he gestured to the rubble that had accumulated during his fight with Onslaught. “Surely, you can use that to pull apart what you can’t move with your power.”

“Let’s not do anything rash, Charles. It could be useful.”

“No!” Charles snapped before taking a calming breath. “No. Its utility is far outweighed by its danger. Besides, it’s calibrated to my mind and I won’t use it.”

“We have scientists-“

“Who will never figure it out. What do you plan to do with it, Erik? Tell me that Onslaught was wrong. Tell me that you’ve learned from New York, that you won’t try to do something…dramatic.”

“Dramatic? They’re trying to kill us! This just proves it! Stryker was willing to use you to commit genocide against us! How can you still be on their side?”

“Because he was one man. I won’t stop one person from genocide just to let another take his place.”

“How dare you accuse me of-“

He cut off as the machine rumbled. Charles appeared just as surprised as he did.

“Erik?”

“It wasn’t me.”

“Um, if you gentlemen would turn around,” Emma said.

Both of them had been so caught up in their argument that they hadn’t noticed when Jean raised her arms.

“Jean?” Charles asked. “Jean, can you destroy the machine?”

“I can, Professor.”

Magneto raised an eyebrow. “She’s just a girl.”

Jean shot the Brotherhood leader a pissy look. “Don’t mistake the girl I was when you left us for the woman I am now.”

Before Erik had a chance to scoff, the fiery-haired mutant stretched her arms further then pulled them back to her body. The dome pulled apart above them then crumpled in on itself. The platform on which they stood was the only part that remained untouched. It took a minute for Magneto to realize the smirk the girl had on her face was because of his own gaping. 

The four moved back into the facility in silence. It didn’t take long to get back to the Blackbird. Azazel appeared not long after. Jean brushed by Erik as she boarded the jet. Charles pulled up beside him. The jet was beginning the take-off procedure.

“They’ve all grown up since you left to pursue your…goals. Don’t make the mistake of underestimating us.”

With that, he pushed himself onto the plane. The ramp rose after him and the jet took off towards Westchester.

Magneto watched it fade into the distance, then glanced back to the remnants of the dome. It was a stark contrast to the serene lake it sat by.

“No, I don’t think I’ll make that mistake again,” he murmured before taking Azazel’s outstretched hand. A moment later, the Brotherhood was gone, the only sign they had been there the footprints left in the snow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter left in this one! Let me know what you thought of this. I’m hoping it wasn’t too hurried :)


	12. That Which Will Survive

The silence during their chess game was far less companionable than usual. Erik might go so far as to characterize it as tense. He’d thought with the destruction of Onslaught Charles would go back to normal. Instead, the telepath was more withdrawn than ever.

“Are you alright, Charles?”

Charles blinked and shook his head minutely as if to clear it of the cobwebs of leftover thought. “Of course. I was just thinking of some of the things Onslaught said before you killed him.”

Unexpected, but he supposed he’d take the bait. “What could he have said that possibly deserves your attention now?”

The professor’s lips thinned. “As much as you may hate to admit it, Onslaught was part of me. While his actions were extreme, the foundations of his logic and observations may not have been flawed.”

“Are you telling me that you approve of him murdering Stryker and his son?”

“Of course not!” exclaimed an affronted Charles. 

“Then what could he have said that warrants your attention now that he’s gone?”

"You.”

“Me,” Erik scoffed.

“Tell me, Erik, if you win this war you're so set on waging, what then?"

Erik blinked as he tried to wrap his mind around the abrupt shift in their conversation. "I…what?"

"You've always been so singled-minded in your goals that you forget to have a plan for after your success."

"Of course I have a plan,” Magneto replied, somewhat offended. “We'll have our own society. All of us, as equals."

"As easy as that? What do you think will happen once you eradicate the humans and found the mutant paradise you so desperately seek? Do you honestly believe the survivors won’t find a new group to turn against? A new group to persecute? It’s already begun."

What? “What are you talking about?”

“I think I know exactly who the next crusade will target,” the telepath stated with a pointed glare at the helmet crowning Magneto’s head. “Fear is how it begins. The thirst for war isn’t limited to humans. There will always be difference and it will be feared unless we can find a way to alleviate those fears. The responsibility lies with us.”

Magneto wore his most insulted expression. “I wear this to keep you from having an unfair advantage. You know as well as I how easily you could have your way.”

“And I know how easily you could stab me with the spokes of my own wheelchair, yet here I sit. I believe it was Aristotle who said that fear is pain arising from the anticipation of evil. You fear telepaths, but that fear is masked for the time being by your fear of humans and what they may or may not do to you.” Xavier paused, his eyes almost pleading. "If you allow yourself to be ruled by the constant anticipation of evil…Erik, my friend, I only ask that you consider the consequences of your actions."

"And I ask that you consider the consequences of your inaction," Erik returned. “You can’t honestly expect me to abandon my only defense against telepathy after a human enslaved his telepathic son so he could commit genocide. The humans must be dealt with. I won’t allow you or any other telepath the opportunity to change my mind.”

Silence fell as the two found themselves, as always, at an impasse. Charles glanced to the board.

“I have you in four moves. There is some business that needs to be taken care of for the school. If you’ll excuse me.”

Magneto watched the other man disappear, realizing only then that he’d never truly answered Charles’ question about telepaths and their role after mutants defeated the humans. He shook his head. It didn’t matter anyway. Mutants were a brotherhood. They wouldn’t turn on each other once they finally had the power they deserved. Charles and his X-Men would see reason once the world was right.

* * *

The paperclip wove a restless path through the air. It didn't distract Charles as he gazed out the window to the lawn below where his students were taking a well deserved break. The metal began threading through Charles' fingers like he'd seen Erik do with Shaw's coin so many times. It was the small things, he found, that took the most concentration and control. He could toss weights around all day, but making a paperclip float around his fingers was an art form.

As Charles watched the children, he couldn’t help but think back to something Onslaught had said to him after the Shaw debacle. _Nobody on this earth is more powerful than us. Not yet at least._ Charles looked down to the smiling Jean Grey. As he watched the girl, full of innocence and hope and something else, he couldn’t help but wonder if Onslaught knew more than he let on. Time would tell, he supposed. For now, Jean was laughing as Ororo used a burst of wind to counter Scott and Warren’s attack. In fact, all the children were smiling. Even Hank and Alex, who stood off to the side watching, had fond smiles plastered on their faces. Everyone was as happy and carefree as he’d ever seen them

_They don’t know that I’m still here, do they?_

Charles hesitated at the matter-of-fact tone of the voice in his head. _You killed people._

_We killed people. They had it coming anyway._

_All of them?_

A mental shrug. _Necessary sacrifices._

The telepath shook his head. _You used my body, but you were your own being for those months…when you killed Stryker and his son._

_True. But now that I’m back in your head I feel much more myself than I did out there…and by ‘myself’ I mean you. And I may have been a bit insane with Magneto’s personality added in, but part of me still comes from you. Don’t tell me you’re having doubts about our deal._

After a pregnant pause, the unease that had manifested on Charles’ face dissolved. _I’ve accepted that you’re part of me. I don’t have to be thrilled about it._

_You didn’t answer my question. Do they know I’m still here?_

Charles sighed. _As I said, you killed people. They...they wouldn’t understand. Nobody knows you’re here…and I’d like to keep it that way._

_Not even your good friend Erik?_ Onslaught’s voice sneered. _He’s so very proud of himself for killing me._

_You saw everything I saw. Erik is heading down a dangerous path. He knows now what we can do through Cerebro. If he was aware of your continued existence, I fear he would use us to destroy humanity._

_He would try,_ Onslaught murmured dangerously.

_Him manipulating me to use our power for his own purposes…that is something I could never forgive him for. I’m not ready to face that yet. ___

Charles looked back outside, this time focusing on the horizon. Dusk was quickly approaching, the sky splashed with the purples and reds that appeared before the plunge into the deep blue of night. _This is what you wanted the whole time, isn’t it? Us reintegrated. Me to accept you as part of myself. The X-Men and the Brotherhood…we did exactly what you wanted us to do._

_Not exactly. I did enjoy having my own body. But, as you so kindly pointed out to me, we’re more powerful together. Even more so now that Magneto is part of us too. The things we can do together…that’s why I’m still here. I may have gotten what I wanted out of this, but I suspect you did too. Stryker will no longer be a threat to us and your school and we both know that if it comes down to it, we can stop Magneto from doing something…regrettable. He’ll only be spurred on by the latest turn of events, after all._

__Charles nodded thoughtfully to himself. The children were all sitting now, watching the sky as it transformed. The telepath turned away from the sunset and wheeled back into his room._ _

_I suppose it’s time for us to begin training then._

__Charles could feel Onslaught give one of his trademark grins in his head. This time, though, Charles felt a small smile form on his face too._ _

__Outside, Jean leaned against Scott as the last remnants of the sunset glowed in the sky. An ember of it reflected in her eyes. Deep within the girl with flowing red hair, a spark began to flicker and grow._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have one more story planned for this series. It will probably start being published next month-ish, but I'm not going to make any promises since it's getting towards the end of the semester and I have a conference at the very beginning of January. Thanks for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> Story title comes from the comics. It's one of Onslaught's monikers. Series title comes from the Robert Herrick quote "A spark neglected makes a mighty fire."
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing. Except Andrew Jones. He's all mine.
> 
> Note: The invasion of Czechslovakia (mentioned in the first chapter) was actually the headline for the New York Times on August 20, 1968. I have a timeline written out and estimate this is about the time this part of the story takes place (mid to late August 1968), so I went with that for a news story. That is the only part of this story that was taken from fact.


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